


choi seungcheol: swimming fool

by sleepyscoops



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Swimming, Diving, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Hoondere, Hot Tub, Inappropriate Humor, M/M, Partial Nudity, Swimming, Swimming Pools, aka jihoon being tsundere, incorrect product placement, please give cheol a chance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-23
Updated: 2019-06-21
Packaged: 2019-11-28 15:07:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 32,935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18209954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sleepyscoops/pseuds/sleepyscoops
Summary: swimming fool: a fool who swims.Seungcheol is one of the world's best swimmers, and he thinks that diving is a lame sport....until he meets rookie diver Lee Jihoon.Or; yet another AU where cheol is super whipped over hoon.





	1. so cool

**Author's Note:**

> ok first and foremost: this fic has no relation to [ lee jihoon: swimming fool ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12290466)**(which i wrote)** ; it's just another take on the phrase 'swimming fool' :)
> 
> originally written for jicheol's 4th anniversary way back in 2017 but i ended up writing [ this ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12392799) instead lmao (also a helpful hint: think change up hair for leader line in this)
> 
> chapter 1 title from [ day6 - so cool ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HvS4_iCjiRY)  
> because lee hoonie is so cool 😎

Choi Seungcheol is Korea’s most promising swimmer – he’d represented the country twice at the Olympics: his first time at the London Games in 2012, and most recently in Rio, where he’d placed fourth in the 100 metres freestyle race, just mere milliseconds from the podium. The country had hailed him for that achievement; being the first Korean swimmer to do so.

His best record is at the World Aquatic Championships, where he’d beaten his closest competitor, Chinese national Wen Junhui, racing his way to the finish line, only to be cut off by that Singaporean rookie Joe Schooling in the final few metres. So Seungcheol had to settle for silver, playing second fiddle to a rookie; but it’s still his greatest achievement to date. No other Korean had achieved such a feat; to stand on the podium as one of the world’s best swimmers.

Apart from that, his junior record is impeccable – a chest of gold medals to boast for his achievements especially in freestyle and breaststroke; which his father proudly polishes every single weekend. So, it’s no surprise that Seungcheol is billed to be one of South Korea’s star athletes; hailed as high as those singing, dancing K-pop automatons that brought the Hallyu wave around the world.

Thanks to his devilishly handsome good looks and his incredible star power, it’s no wonder that Seungcheol is treated like a god in the aquatic arena. He’s got hordes of fangirls, all cheering for him as he powers his way through the water to the finish line. Numerous endorsement deals are all coming his way too – advertising for Milkis was the best decision he’d ever made in his life, because now he gets an unlimited supply of the fizzy yogurt drink. (Which is also quite convenient if he forgets a birthday, he’d just present them with a box of Milkis - simple as that!)

Seungcheol’s trying not to let the fame get to his head, but when his coach lets him train alone, with a whole pool to himself, he knows that he’s definitely getting special treatment. Fans send him lots of gifts, from handwritten letters professing their undying love, to expensive designer pieces that Seungcheol can easily afford by himself. He even gets his own assistant, even though he never asked for one; and a housekeeper as well (he’d also been offered a driver, but he’d rather drive his flashy Ferrari on his own) – it’d be rude to turn down such nice offers, so Seungcheol goes with the flow and accepts what’s given to him with a gracious smile. All of these benefits, and all he does is swim for a living. Seungcheol’s living life in the fast lane – literally; since he’d smashed all of the Korean swimming records, replacing them every time he jumps into the pool at any official swim meet.

Life is sweet for Choi Seungcheol, the best swimmer in the whole Korean peninsula.

And one day, he’s sure that he’s going to conquer the world.

One day, the swimming coach, Coach Yoon comes along and tells him that the national diving team will be sharing the aquatic centre with the swimming team for training; because the tiny swimming complex located on the outskirts of the big city, where the diving team usually trains is undergoing renovation (rumours say because of a collapsed roof and leaky pipes), and is scheduled to complete in two years. _Two freaking years._ How long would it take to fix those things? Seungcheol doesn’t really care about that, because it doesn’t concern him – the national diving team could train by the Han River and he wouldn’t blink an eye.

Based on Coach Yoon’s boring, long-winded explanation, the national diving team - comprising of about ten to twelve athletes ranked in the midsection of the world diving rankings – would be sharing the practice arena with the swimming team. It’s no big deal, the coach says, since the swimming and diving teams use two different pools, so there wouldn’t be any clashes. He’d thought that Seungcheol would appreciate the heads up, so that he wouldn’t be surprised to find an overpopulation in the swimming complex during practice.   

Seungcheol simply brushes it off; he never had a care for diving, barely being exposed to the sport – what do divers even do, apart from standing on a high platform, then letting themselves fall (willingly!) from that height into the water below, while twisting and turning at the same time?

It looks simple, anyway – at least it seems that way. Anyone can do it – hell, Seungcheol thinks that he can, too, but he’d rather do other things than diving.

To the star swimmer, diving is…well, lame. At least in swimming, you'd get the honour of being the quickest people on Earth; and besides, swimming is an essential survival skill. But diving? All those somersaults look the same, and has no use in real life. Yawn. 

Like Coach Yoon said, it wouldn’t be a huge problem, since the diving team would be using the other pool with the diving boards anyway, far away from the main pool where he trains alone; or even better: they’d have different training times. The rest of the swimming team already has to wake up at the crack of dawn to train, so that Seungcheol can have the pool to himself by ten a.m. – not too early, and just ample time before lunch. Yes, that’s how special Choi Seungcheol is – he gets his own personal practice time, separate from his subordinates (not teammates, they’re a class below him).

To swimming star Seungcheol, the diving team is the least of his worries – he’d rather think about the next record that he’s going to break (he could be the first Korean to win a gold medal at the Olympics in swimming; or the world champion, to become ranked along with Michael Phelps, becoming one of the greatest swimmers to ever grace the Earth) or what to have for lunch. He doesn’t really have to pick out his own lunch menu, because that’s what his assistant Chan is for; so he spends most of his time swimming, working out or daydreaming about winning. He’s definitely going to stand atop the podium at the World Championships, or even the Olympics, biting his gold medal as the media soaks up all his glory, clamouring to put out his victory as the top story for the next few weeks.

Seungcheol could imagine it – the raucous, encouraging cheers from the whole world, the camera flashes capturing that one single moment, etching it into history. The well wishes, spilling into his message inbox, crippling even his hi-tech sponsored smartphone. Thinking about it drives his motivation to do his best, and nothing – absolutely _nothing_ – could ever distract him from his goals.

One day, he arrives at the aquatic centre ten minutes too early for training, and the diving team is at the other end of the arena, splashing into the water like little kids as they wrap up their training session. Seungcheol scoffs at them, only to be pleasantly surprised when he sees a lone figure atop the 10 metres platform, looking statuesque with his pale, pale skin and greenish-blond hair – almost fragile, like a porcelain doll. It’s in real time, but everything suddenly moves slowly. Seungcheol’s surroundings melt away into a blur, as his vision tunnels towards the beautiful diver standing at the highest point in the whole arena.

Forget that the diver’s wearing nothing but a tiny speedo – Seungcheol’s heart begins racing, faster and louder than it’s ever been, that he could hear it thumping in his ears. His eyes widen, pupils dilating to take in all of the diver’s perfect body and perfect form; his jaw dropping in wonder: all the telltale signs of a person falling in love at first sight…

Right at that moment, the mysterious diver leaps off the high platform, and gracefully somersaults into the water below with barely a splash.

Seungcheol exhales loudly, only then realising that he’d been holding his breath watching the whole thing unfold. For a second, he forgets why he’s there at the aquatic arena – he’d been so entranced by the gorgeous, nameless diver. His eyes are wild, searching for the diver in the water; oh, there he is, resurfacing, his greenish-blond head bobbing underneath the surface, sending ripples throughout the pool.

Maybe Seungcheol had underestimated divers all this while. That routine had moved his heart – he’d seen nothing more beautiful in his life.

“Yeah, Hoonie! Woo!” Some orange-haired guy cheers from the 5 metres diving platform, his feet dangling over the edge.

‘Hoonie’ is swimming towards the side of the pool, and even though Seungcheol’s standing at quite a considerable distance away, he can see the rivulets of water trailing down the blond diver’s back as he climbs out of the pool.  

Seungcheol’s mouth is agape, unbelieving that such an ethereal human being exists in this world. He’s frozen in his spot, and his brain is thinking only one thing, over and over: he’s going to get to know that diver.

“Sir?” Seungcheol jumps out of his skin, surprised the sudden appearance of his assistant, Chan. The young man is holding a clipboard, which has details of Seungcheol’s schedule, planned right down to the minute. “You have training in five minutes.”

Screw training. Seungcheol wants to sit by the side of the pool and watch that diver for the rest of his life. He doesn’t even look at Chan, his vision already locked onto his target: the blond diver who’s drying himself off with a small towel underneath the diving platform.

“Stay here, Chan.” Seungcheol says, his face determined. He’s going to talk to that fairy; that water sprite, who’d suddenly leapt into his life. The swimmer marches over to the diving pool, leaving his confused assistant behind.

“Hey!” Seungcheol calls out once he approaches the diving pool, where the blond diver is lounging around, towelling himself off.

‘Hoonie’ turns around to face him; and Seungcheol’s shocked at how young he looks. He might still be in high school, with the seemingly innocent baby face. He’s a little smaller than Seungcheol thought, having the perfect height to nuzzle his face into Seungcheol’s chest if the need ever arises. He’s even more attractive up close, Seungcheol decides, appreciating the diver’s perfectly arched eyebrows, his cute little nose and the curve of his imminently kissable lips; his body all lean muscle, and Seungcheol’s gaze lingers a little too long on the diver’s six-pack abs, imagining how he’d gently graze his fingers over them to find out how rock-solid they are.

Hot damn.

“It’s Seungcheol-sunbaenim!” Orange-haired guy pops up from the pool, dripping wet, bowing down ninety degrees in respect. Seungcheol didn’t even realise when the guy had even jumped into the pool, his brain barely remembering seeing the guy sitting somewhere on one of the diving platforms earlier. Still, quite an entrance – though a bit of a nuisance, intruding on his one-on-one time with the most beautiful person to ever grace this swimming complex.

“I’m Soonyoung, and this is my diving partner and best friend Jihoon! It’s nice to meet you!” The orange-haired guy enthusiastically introduces himself and the blond diver before Seungcheol could even speak.

The swimmer spares a split-second glance at Soonyoung, giving him a cordial smile; then focuses his attention onto Jihoon instead.

Jihoon, Jihoon, Jihoon. A common name for an extraordinary being; yet somehow it suited the diver, who’s now wrapping a towel around his shoulders. It must be cold, coming out of the pool – a sensation Seungcheol fully knows and understands. So before Jihoon succumbs to hypothermia, he’d better get on with the conversation, but his brain is thinking too fast; his tongue numb, and his voice nowhere to be found.

_Hi there, I’ve just met you and I love you._

Saying those three words to a stranger would come off too strong, right?

(Though he’d always gotten that from his hordes of fangirls – _Seungcheol, I love you! Marry me! Seungcheol, you make my ovaries …._ )

_I like your hair._

_I like your body._

_I like the way you dived into the pool._

_I haven’t seen you around before, do you always train here?_

“Why are you training now?”

_You shouldn’t be training now, because you should be talking to me!_

Oh, wait. What did Seungcheol just say? Whatever it was, it certainly had been dumb, because Jihoon raises an eyebrow, crossing his arms across his bare chest, taking a defensive stance.

Jihoon’s sharp eyes meet Seungcheol’s, and the swimmer can’t help but be entranced by the dark brown orbs scrutinizing him – he wants to look away, but he can’t. “Is there a problem with that?”

“Do you know who I am?” Seungcheol doesn’t mean to sound arrogant, but it comes out that way, instead of the playful tone he’d intended. Practically everyone in the swimming world knows him, treating him like royalty. But Jihoon’s stare is cold, the opposite of all the adoring looks he’s accustomed to.  

“Care to enlighten me?” Jihoon actually rolls his eyes and dries off his chlorine-stained greenish blond hair with his towel.

“Hoonie! It’s Choi Seungcheol! You can’t talk to him like that!” Soonyoung’s eyes almost bulge out of its sockets in shock at how rude his friend is towards someone so famous and adored.

“Well, Mr Choi, I’m sorry to interrupt your training session, which hasn’t started yet.” Jihoon perfectly knows that Seungcheol needs to train alone for no explicable reason, and that fact has been stressed upon by their diving coach. He’d questioned it once during diving practice, only to be shushed by Soonyoung – that’s how the way things work around here. Everyone gets their allocated training time, as a team, which makes things complicated, with the considerable number of people from both swimming and diving teams, lining up to use the swimming pools at once (like at a bloody water park). Time and space become limited, possibly causing a hit in the athletes’ performance. But Choi Seungcheol gets the whole aquatic arena to himself for at least a few hours a day, which is clearly unfair, because he’s already the best member on the national swimming team, and he only uses the main pool when he trains, leaving the diving pool empty, free for any of the national divers to fit in some extra practice time.

Jihoon doesn’t like the favouritism: does training alone make Seungcheol swim faster? Just because he’d won a bunch of medals for the country (noticeably mostly silver and never gold), suddenly, he’s being given special treatment by the national swimming association. It’s inconvenient, really, since the rest of the swimming team comes in early in the morning, and the afternoon sessions are booked by the national female diving and swimming teams; and the lack of training venues makes everything more difficult. Jihoon had planned to stay a while more to practice his 10 metres solo platform routine as the rest of the diving team had dispersed early, so Soonyoung, who’s also his housemate, had to wait for him to finish his extra practice session; and then Seungcheol had unexpectedly turned up, acting like he owns the place.

Noticing the flagrant change in Jihoon’s tone, Soonyoung rushes over to Jihoon and starts dragging him away; just in case Jihoon suddenly assaults Korea’s beloved swimming superstar. “I’m sorry, Seungcheol-sunbaenim, but Hoonie forgot to eat his happy cereal this morning, so we’ll be leaving and good luck with your training and we’re sorry for disturbing you, and Hoonie say sorry to him.” He says it all in one breath, as Jihoon wrestles himself out of Soonyoung’s grip, pushing him away.

“Whatever. I’m out.” Jihoon marches away to the locker room, and Seungcheol watches his backside as he leaves.

Soonyoung mutters a million apologies to Seungcheol, bowing profusely as he scuttles after Jihoon. The swimmer waves it off; he doesn’t really mind, though he’s a bit disturbed by Jihoon’s reaction. He’s definitely a tough nut to crack, Seungcheol decides, crossing his arms over his chest, as a little smirk appears on his face. Those two are really an interesting pair, but Jihoon’s the one that he’d like to meet again. There’s an enigmatic aura surrounding the small-sized diver – he’d probably intended for it to push people away, but it’s drawing Seungcheol closer. There’s something about Jihoon that makes Seungcheol hooked, and it’s not just skin-deep, it’s more than that, but Seungcheol can’t put a finger onto what it is… yet the image of Jihoon’s back(side) is imprinted in his mind, and he’s not likely to forget that anytime soon.

Maybe diving isn’t as straightforward as it seems, though Seungcheol still feels that swimming is superior. Though with that quality display of diving Jihoon had just shown him, it could change his mind… maybe it already did.

“Sir? Time for practice?” Chan appears right by Seungcheol’s side, hiding his face behind his clipboard. He’d seen the whole thing unfold from a distance, and he’d been scared to intervene.

“Alright.” Seungcheol says, walking back to the main pool, his assistant trailing him. “I just need a favour, Chan.”

“Yes, sir?” Chan’s already efficiently poised with his pen, ready to take down notes.

“Find out everything you can about that diver named Jihoon.”


	2. cherry bomb

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter song: [ nct 127's cherry bomb ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WkuHLzMMTZM)
> 
> bc lee hoonie is the biggest hit on the stage (diving platform)

The next time Seungcheol sees Jihoon, it’s three weeks later at a national swim meet. Swimmers from all over Korea swarm Seoul for the event, and Seungcheol finds himself in a sea of adoring fans screaming out longingly for him. He manages to keep a dazzling smile on his face as he moves from his car into the aquatic centre, and apparently, three fans fainted when they see him.

He’s used to it, of course. Maybe he’ll cover their hospital fees later, he thinks, as he spies a couple of medical personnel rush over to the unconscious fangirls; though usually with some water and rest and a bit more oxygen to their brains, they’ll be fine, professing their love for Seungcheol like nothing had happened.

Despite the dizzying crowd, Seungcheol’s only looking out for one person - a rookie diver named Lee Jihoon, 21 years old, from Busan, height 164cm, and absolutely loves rice. Greenish-blond hair, wears black Speedos that fit perfectly, accentuating his butt. (Okay, maybe Jihoon wouldn’t turn up to the aquatic arena wearing only his Speedo, but whatever.)

After that tense initial meeting, Chan had produced a whole dossier for Seungcheol at his request – now the well-thumbed document is his favourite bedside reading material. Seungcheol’s grateful for Chan for his help, especially with the extra photos of Jihoon in action (read: in a speedo) from his past diving competitions for his personal inspection. Seungcheol had even memorised all of Jihoon’s public information that Chan had inserted in the dossier, but he still wants more.

The diving competition is scheduled right before his race – Seungcheol’s tipped for the gold medal this time – so the swimmer arrives about three hours too early to the aquatic centre. Today he feels good, like he’s going to break another record in the 100m breaststroke race; but his heart is beating unnaturally fast at the prospect of seeing Jihoon in person again.

Chan’s by his side, of course, his young assistant as efficient as always, with his ever-present clipboard. He doesn’t question Seungcheol’s motives – asking for information for someone who’s not his competitor, and watching the diving competition, which is unbecoming of him. Chan knows very well that Seungcheol’s never given a flying damn about diving, which he’d second-rated all the time, heralding swimming as the more superior sport. But he knows better not to ask, having a fuzzy idea of what may be happening, given his boss’s sudden interest in Lee Jihoon.  

The atmosphere in the aquatic arena fizzles with anticipation, the crowd still high off the women’s diving final, which has just concluded. Seungcheol settles in the bleachers, a front row seat right in front of the diving pool, with Chan sitting next to him. The men’s diving finals would start in a while, and divers from across the nation congregate at the competitor’s area right by the diving pool. Seungcheol strains his neck to glimpse the blond Jihoon – his hair stained green thanks to the chlorine of the pool, but he doesn’t see him among the divers warming up near the open showers behind the diving platforms.

He spots Soonyoung mingling around in the crowd, laughing around with some random diver that Seungcheol doesn’t recognise. The swimmer starts tapping his foot nervously as he scans the crowd – there seem to be zero blonds down there: is it possible that Jihoon won’t be competing? Chan detects that Seungcheol’s on edge, but he doesn’t say a word, of course.

“Welcome to Seoul Aquatic Arena! The men’s 5 metres synchronized platform diving finals will start in two minutes.” An emcee’s voice booms flamboyantly over the speakers, and the crowd erupts into a cheer; most of the fangirls waving banners, as if they’re at a concert. “Today, the first place winners will have the chance to qualify for the World Championships in Japan. So cheer for your favourites, and good luck to all the divers!”

Everyone around Seungcheol and Chan scream their hearts out, almost deafening them, while they clap along politely.

The diving competition starts with a couple of no-name regional divers trying out for a chance of national glory. Seungcheol watches them distastefully, comparing everyone to Jihoon – no one can dive like Jihoon can; the unimaginable things he does to his flexible body as he arcs gracefully in the air, bracing for the water below – Seungcheol may have watched one (maybe ten) videos of Jihoon diving that’s uploaded online, learning how to appreciate the art of diving.  

“Next up is Kwon Soonyoung and Lee Jihoon.”

Hearing Jihoon’s name, Seungcheol sits up straighter in his seat to get a better view, still trying to spot the elusive diver. Next to him, Chan unconsciously mirrors his boss, though he’s genuinely interested in the whole competition instead.

Up on the platform, Soonyoung’s revelling in the cheers, waving around towards the fans in the arena, which get louder with each gesture he does. But his diving partner is a red-headed male, unlike the blond that Seungcheol had met. But his silhouette is unmistakable, that lithe, flexible frame, already familiar to Seungcheol’s eyes, etched onto his brain.

Lee Jihoon has now dyed his hair red, which is Seungcheol’s favourite colour.

Red, not like the obnoxiously red Ferrari that Seungcheol owns, or fire truck red.

A dark red that sets off against his milky skin. A dark red, the exact shade of red roses, like bouquets of them on Valentine’s Day – red roses with silky smooth petals, just like Seungcheol thinks how Jihoon’s skin would feel like.

So if Jihoon were a flower, Seungcheol reckons that he’d be a red rose.

And don’t flower experts always say that red roses symbolises love?

A grin appears on Seungcheol’s face as he keeps his eyes trained onto Jihoon, who’s preparing for his dive. He leans over to his assistant to whisper: “Chan, remind me to get a bunch of roses.”

Without questioning, Chan quickly jots it down on his clipboard, then returns his attention to the diving platform. The whole arena has quietened down in mass anticipation as the two divers take their place on the diving platform.

Soonyoung and Jihoon stand on the edge of the platform, their backs toward the pool. With their practiced poses, they flip off the platform at the same second, somersaulting through the air before entering the water with a soft splash, barely breaking the surface of the water.

From the crowd’s reaction, it’s obvious that Soonyoung and Jihoon are fan favourites; the din roaring so loudly, shaking the foundations of the building to its core.  

Seungcheol gapes at the dive, clapping his hands madly as he fixes his gaze onto Jihoon’s red head bobbing under the surface of the water. Even with a partner, Jihoon manages to stand out – with his unique red hair and perfect form. Amazed is one word that could be used to describe Seungcheol at that moment; he’d just witnessed a diving routine so exceptional, he’s sure that Jihoon (and Soonyoung) would blow all their other competitors out of the water.

The announcer recites their scores over the loudspeaker, and their astounding performance puts them in first place like Seungcheol had predicted, beating out the other competitors by a large deficit. There’s still a few more rounds to go, but Seungcheol’s confident that the Soonyoung-Jihoon pair would clinch the coveted first place with their excellent synchronisation for their complicated routines. 

The competition goes on for a while, and the results are a no-brainer, as Seungcheol had expected. Fans go wild, as orange-haired Soonyoung does exaggerated bows from underneath the platform, while Jihoon simply dries himself off with his little towel – his shammy - with a satisfied little smirk on his face.

Seungcheol can’t help but smile seeing the pair, as Soonyoung squishes a reluctant Jihoon into a celebratory hug; and the crowd cheers even louder.

(He wishes he could be down by the diving platforms too, and give Jihoon a bear hug, because he deserves it.)

There’s a lull in the atmosphere as the first diving event wraps up, and the officials are preparing the pool for the next one. Chan quickly checks his clipboard for Seungcheol’s detailed itinerary – the swimming competition would begin right after this, and he knows that Coach Yoon would want to have a word with the star swimmer.

“Sir, we should go now. The swim meet starts soon, and you need to prepare.” Chan leans over, reminding Seungcheol that he’s here to compete in the swimming events, not fanboy over a certain redheaded diver...

Seungcheol still wants to watch the diving competition, though he doesn’t know what’s the next event – Jihoon might not be competing in it. Chan holds his breath, almost anticipating his boss to plant his backside stubbornly onto the hard plastic seats in the bleachers to watch the diving events.

The star swimmer scans the diving area for a certain redhead, but fails to find him, much to his own disappointment.  “Fine, let’s go.” Seungcheol stands up abruptly, preparing to leave the bleachers.  

Chan secretly pats himself on his back for a job well done, exhaling with relief. Even if Seungcheol’s got his head in cloud nine, fawning over Lee Jihoon the redheaded diver; at least he’s still got his priorities straight: to become the best swimmer in the whole wide world.

But first, he’s got to win a few easy races against the local rookies, before he can move on to a bigger, much more glamorous stage. 

* * *

It’s time.

Seungcheol’s all geared in his skintight full body swimsuit – endorsed by the best sports brand this side of the world; all prepped for the competition. He’s competing in two of them today, and everyone’s expecting him to win gold, and fly off to Japan for the World Championships. His dad texted him, his mum left a long, heartfelt voice message, his older brother spammed him with good luck memes, and his phone keeps on buzzing, flooding with messages from well-wishers.

He doesn’t know half of those people, but they mean well, and Seungcheol likes getting all the luck that he can get.

Chan and the competition officials keep reminding him that his race is about to start really soon, which doesn’t happen soon enough. His nerves are getting to him, so Seungcheol sits on one of the benches in the locker room, trying to keep his head clear, repeating his personal motivational mantra to himself.

But he keeps seeing a flash of red contrasting against the rippling water of the pool, which is kind of messing up his focus.

Lee Jihoon is somewhere out there, in this arena… and Seungcheol wants to see him again.

“Seungcheol, sir, it’s time.” Chan says softly, but the swimmer is already up on his feet, pulling on his sports jacket.

“Choi Seungcheol, there you are!” The national swimming coach, Coach Yoon, pops up in front of the swimmer. “You know what you need to do today, right?”

Seungcheol grins confidently at the older man and loops an arm around his shoulders. “Won’t let you down, Coach.”

The two of them leave the locker room together, Chan scurrying along with Seungcheol’s bag; oblivious to the jealous stares of the rest of the national swim team, who are also hopefuls for the World Championships. But with Seungcheol around, the best they can hope for is silver and a wildcard entry to the biggest swim competition apart from the Olympics.

Seungcheol, Coach Yoon and Chan enter the main arena, where the diving competition is just wrapping up with the prize-giving ceremony.

“And the champion, for the male category of the 10 metres platform: Korea’s own Cherry Bomb, Lee Jihoon!” The emcee, Boo Seungkwan announces, and the everyone goes wild.

_Cherry Bomb._

Jihoon’s hair, as red as cherries on a wedding cake. Seungcheol likes that analogy, too.

The crowd cheer loudly as the diver steps up onto the podium to receive his gold medal. There’s a little smirk on his face, like he knows he deserves it. Seungcheol’s chest swells with pride, though he’s a little disappointed that he missed Jihoon’s 10 metres solo diving competition earlier. Meanwhile, orange-haired Soonyoung leads the cheers from the crowd, like a music conductor, and Jihoon bows politely to the audience after he accepts his prize. Seungcheol wishes that he could shout Jihoon’s name at the top of his lungs in support for the diver, but keeping himself professional, he simply plasters on a huge, proud smile.

“Alright folks, let’s hear it for the divers!” The announcer’s voice booms jovially over the speakers; and the crowd roars in response as the divers leave the arena for the safety (and relative quietness) of the locker rooms, tired after a long day of competing.   

“Up next, please turn your attention to the main pool, because it’s the swimmers’ turn: we have the men’s races later. 100 metres, freestyle and breaststroke races, featuring the nation’s favourite, Choi Seungcheol!”

The fangirls in the bleachers scream as loud as they can at the mere mention of the swimming superstar. Seungcheol thinks that his eardrums are going to pop due to the high decibels; but he grins and waves at the crowd, which makes them scream even louder. Coach Yoon quickly pulls him to the competitor’s area, where the rookie swimmers start bowing at him, all of them starstruck; and Seungcheol quickly says hello as he passes by them.

“That announcer’s making this whole event appear like a variety show.” Coach Yoon shakes his head. “This is a professional competition!”

“Well, they shouldn’t have hired Boo Seungkwan to become the emcee then. He’s an entertainer, what do you expect?” Seungcheol laughs. He likes the man’s colourful style of hosting the event, conducting it rather informally. There are cameras everywhere, too; the event being broadcasted live on national television and online for the whole world to watch, so Seungcheol makes sure that he’s got his best smile on.

“Right.” Coach Yoon is visibly flustered. “I’m gonna leave you here. Gotta hype up the other kids, they’re getting jealous of you. Go for gold.” The older man pats Seungcheol’s back in a friendly manner.

“You bet.” Seungcheol sits on one of the plastic chairs arranged neatly near the main pool; as Coach Yoon disappears among the other swimmers. Chan puts Seungcheol’s bag at his feet, then consults his clipboard, making sure that Seungcheol’s itinerary is planned well. So far, so good, everything’s going to plan.  

“Hey, Chan?” Seungcheol calls out for his assistant.  

Chan immediately stands at attention. “Yes, sir.”

“Why don’t you get a smartphone or something, instead of using that clipboard?” Seungcheol asks conversationally, to screen out the loud screams of the fans in the arena, which is starting to put pressure on him. He’s aware that everyone’s watching him – in fact, his face is right there on the giant screen, and he tries to appear nonchalant.

“That wouldn’t be a good idea, sir. Water hazards.” Chan nods towards the pool. He likes his clipboard, rather than going digital.

“Well, won’t paper get wet too?” Seungcheol questions, and a random image of Jihoon’s dive entry – clean, barely a splash – replays in slow motion in his mind.

“I try to keep it dry.” Chan smiles, so Seungcheol just nods at his logic.

“And a favour, Chan?”

“Anything.”

“Can you look out for Lee Jihoon…and Kwon Soonyoung? Like, are they staying for the swim meet?” Seungcheol adds Soonyoung’s name at the last minute, to throw Chan off from his singular interest in one (1) Lee Jihoon; but the young assistant is adept at these kinds of things.

“Do you want me to look for…both of them, sir?” Chan tries to keep a straight face – his boss’s sudden interest in diving is starting to get ridiculous; especially when he’d always looked down at the sport, always thinking that swimming is superior. Clearly, he’s got a humongous crush on Lee Jihoon – either he doesn’t realise it yet, or he doesn’t want to admit it. Still, his job is to help his boss (though he has to check whether playing Cupid is part of his scope).

“Invite them here.” Seungcheol says confidently, suddenly feeling good.

Chan simply whips his mobile phone out and dials a number, and about two seconds later, an orange-haired guy makes his way towards them, wearing a tracksuit and a smile that could rival the brightness of the sun. Seungcheol raises an eyebrow at Jihoon’s absence, but manages to keep his expression neutral. About a million questions run through his mind – especially about how his assistant had simply dialled a number, to make Soonyoung appear out of nowhere, but he keeps it at the back of his head, since there are other important matters to address: where is Jihoon?

“Seungcheol-sunbaenim!” Soonyoung bows halfway down to the floor. “It’s an honour to hang out with you!”

“Hello.” Seungcheol nods at the diver in acknowledgement, with a small smile. “Oh, congratulations on winning gold.” The swimmer almost forgets that Soonyoung had partnered Jihoon in the event he’d witnessed earlier, the 5 metres platform synchronised diving.

“Thank you!” Soonyoung beams, sliding into the chair next to Seungcheol, without being invited.

“Extend my wishes to your partner. Speaking of which, where is he?”

“Hoonie left early. He said that he doesn’t want to watch, and he’d rather sleep at home. But to be honest, no matter how long Hoonie sleeps, he won’t grow taller; that’s what I always tell him.” Soonyoung leans back in his seat, looking at his surroundings. There’s a rise of chatter coming from the bleachers; and the rookie swimmers around them are whispering among themselves. Of course, being the star in the spotlight, people always find a way to talk about Seungcheol, and now Soonyoung’s in the picture too -

“Oh.” Seungcheol tries to hide the disappointment on his face, but the slumping of his shoulders indicates otherwise.

“But he’s really happy that he won twice today and we’re going to Japan, which is cool! It’s going to be my first overseas flight, like ever, and I’m nervous about that more than I am about the World Championships…”

Seungcheol realises that Soonyoung is one of those non-stop chatterboxes, so he doesn’t bother to cut in, letting the diver talk his ear off. He focuses on Soonyoung’s voice, grasping onto that little piece of reality, before the excited cheers from the crowd overwhelm him. Sure, he’s one of the top swimmers in the region, but that doesn’t mean that he doesn’t get nervous before his races.

“And the way Boo Seungkwan called Hoonie ‘cherry bomb’, that was genius!” Soonyoung muses, nudging Chan.

“Yeah, I liked that.” Seungcheol smiles – he has the exact same sentiments. One day he should send Boo Seungkwan a box of Milkis just for coming up with that term.

“Last time Hoonie had blond hair, but it turned green because of the pool, so he dyed his hair. And my orange hair, it was a dare from him too, but I think it might be turning green too but I’m not sure. I kind of like it being orange, it reminds me of Jeju’s hallabong.” Soonyoung touches his bangs.

“It’s really orange.” Seungcheol comments detachedly, looking out towards the main pool, trying to imagine himself swimming his heart out, slicing through the water.

“I love oranges.” Soonyoung grins, then starts talking about Jeju’s hallabong, and the last time he’d visited the island. It’s a bit too much information to share especially when spending time with a new person for the very first time, but Seungcheol guesses that Soonyoung’s simply good at maintaining a comfortable aura – part of his overly friendly self.

Seungcheol breathes a sigh of relief when a competition official finally calls him up – finally he’ll be able to get away from Soonyoung’s endless stories and showcase his talent in the pool, and maybe break another national record…

“Hey, Soonyoung. I’ve got to go.”

The diver immediately scrambles to his feet, deeply bowing towards Seungcheol in respect. “Of course, Seungcheol-sunbaenim! I’m sorry for distracting you!”

“Ah, it’s no big deal, Soonyoung. Thanks for keeping me company.” Seungcheol shrugs his training jacket off, handing it to Chan, who’s hovering close, as always.

Soonyoung suddenly embraces Seungcheol tightly, as the competition official barks out Seungcheol’s name again. The swimmer can only pat Soonyoung’s back lightly, too polite to wrestle out of the hug. This would probably be all over the internet forums in two seconds – an interaction between the nation’s favourite swimmer and a rising diving star will surely stir up some talk among netizens. They always pick up something so petty to talk about, like the one time when there was an entire article about Seungcheol’s eyelashes. He wouldn’t be surprised if Dispatch starts following him, to hoping to uncover some non-existent scoop between him and Soonyoung. But he can’t worry about that right now, he’s got a race to win.

“I’m transferring some of my winning luck to you.” Soonyoung whispers as he pulls away, a grin on his face.

“Thanks, I guess.” Seungcheol manages a half-hearted smile, still taken aback by the sudden hug. “See you.”

“This way, sir.” Chan is ready to escort him to the pool; with Seungcheol’s goggles and swimming cap in his hand. Seungcheol pulls the swimming cap onto his head, concealing his dark hair, then follows the naggy official to the main pool, with Chan hot on his heels.

Soonyoung is an oddball, but he’s a fun oddball to hang out with. Seungcheol takes a deep breath and walks out towards the main pool, where numerous officials and his competitors are waiting for the competition to start. He tries to ignore the admiring looks from the rookie competitors, and they seem a bit star-struck to see him; so Seungcheol keeps a polite smile on his face as he walks over to his lane. Boo Seungkwan is announcing something over the loudspeakers in his trademark over-the-top style, but Seungcheol’s too distracted to pay proper attention.

The swimmer quickly turns to his assistant, who’s right behind him. “Chan, which race is this again?”

“The 100 metres butterfly race. Good luck, sir.”

“Thanks.”

Seungcheol’s not too keen on the butterfly stroke, since it’s the most technical out of all the competitive swimming styles. Seungcheol’s niche has always been the freestyle and breaststroke; and he’d never formally competed in the butterfly stroke race. It had been an impulsive decision by Coach Yoon to groom Seungcheol for the butterfly, after his glittering achievement in last year’s World Championships – probably a greedy move by the national swimming federation for another medal to bring home. Unable to say no, and brave enough to take the challenge, Seungcheol had trained for the past few months for this race. So now, in addition to his usual - the freestyle and breaststroke races - he'll be adding the butterfly to his repertoire. 

He’s got to win this. The expectations from the crowd, from his rivals, and from the officials from the national swim council sitting in the VIP area in their stuffy suits, sipping on tea – his name is the most decorated in recent Korean swimming history, and he’d be able to add another notch to it if -when – he wins this. Seungcheol notices Soonyoung’s orange head bobbing amongst the crowd, probably cheering for him too.

Longing tugs at his heart, wishing that Jihoon were present too. That would definitely push him to do his best, so that he can impress the tsundere diver.

_Focus, focus, focus. Deep breaths. You’re the best. Go for gold. Then you’ll get to go to Japan for the world championships, and you’ll get to see more of Jihoon, since he’ll be going too._

With motivation, and a goal set in his mind, Seungcheol climbs onto the starting block in lane 5, the last among the other racers; as everyone else is ready. He corrects his stance, crouching down in his starting position.

Of course, the arena is too loud, and his heart is pounding too fast. He can only hear the blood rushing in his ears; the garbled voice of the announcer saying something barely registers in his mind. The water in front of him ripples in slight waves; inviting, taunting, daunting.

_Blank mind. Nothing to think about._

_Focus, focus, focus._

“Take your marks.”

_Jihoon’s red hair._

A long whistle pierces the air, indicating the start of the race; and Seungcheol launches off the starting block, straight into the chilling waters of the pool.

* * *

Three gold medals, and three tickets to the World Championships in three different events for Choi Seungcheol, Korea's best swimmer, as expected.

Three hours of interviews, then another painstaking three hours of debriefing with officials before travelling through the packed roads of Seoul before he gets home to his penthouse in one of the most expensive neighbourhoods in the city.

Soonyoung’s gotten his number somehow – from Chan, probably – and sent him congratulatory messages, even though he’d already done that in person, the moment Seungcheol had leapt triumphiantly out of the pool. Right now, Seungcheol’s just absently scrolling through all a hundred and fifty-nine of them, unable to think of a proper response. What do you reply to ten fire emojis? 

“Do you need anything else, sir?” Chan’s preparing to leave for the day, already shouldering his own ratty backpack. Seungcheol’s lazing around on the sleek white couch in the living room, which is surrounded with high windows that offers a grand view of the Seoul metropolitan skyline. It looks even more enchanting at night, lit up by different hues of artificial lights. It’s been a long day, and he’s glad that he’s got a day off tomorrow.

Seungcheol hums, staring at his phone, as a couple more emoji-laden messages pop into his inbox. “Did you give Soonyoung my number?”

“He asked for it. I hope you don’t mind. I’ve known him since high school, so I trust him not to give it away or anything.” Chan explains meekly, hugging his clipboard, hoping that Seungcheol wouldn’t scream at him, even though he’s never done that before.

“Ah, it’s fine then.” Seungcheol quickly dismisses it. That explains the connection between Chan and Soonyoung – simply senior and junior from high school. Interestingly, they kind of look similar too, but he doesn’t point that out, closing his eyes, trying to ignore the constantly vibrating phone in his hand.

Soonyoung’s probably a great guy and all, but Seungcheol doesn’t appreciate his phone buzzing incessantly with text notifications from the diver, not this late at night.

It’s just that _someone else_ matters in this case, just not Soonyoung. Seungcheol feels bad, though, because the orange-haired diver seems sincere in being friends (unlike most people, given Seungcheol’s star power); but all Seungcheol wants to do is get closer to Soonyoung's diving partner, Jihoon.

“Anything else?” Chan asks, standing awkwardly near the front door.

“Oh. Right. Send a box of Milkis to Boo Seungkwan. Write a note: ‘thank you for your hard work.’” Seungcheol dictates.

Chan quickly notes it on his clipboard. “I’ll do that first thing tomorrow. Also, you said something about roses, earlier today, sir?”

“Uh.” Seungcheol hesitates. He could ask Chan to do it, but he doesn’t want his assistant to suspect anything odd – Seungcheol’s not one to send flowers to anyone; he’s always on the receiving side. “That’s fine, Chan, forget about it.”

“If you say so.” Chan stuffs his clipboard into his backpack, after cancelling out the note about the roses. “I’ll be leaving, sir.”

“You’ve got the day off tomorrow.” Seungcheol reminds his assistant. “So I’ll see you the day after?”

Chan smiles widely, glad for a break from his responsibilities as Seungcheol’s assistant. He likes the job, but he also deserves his rest. “Good night, sir.” He leaves with a gentle click of the front door, leaving the star swimmer alone in his penthouse.

Seungcheol releases a tired sigh, as his phone vibrates once more. He’s needs to sleep soon, since it's getting late and he's tired; but he’s got to get rid of Soonyoung first, because it’s already past midnight.

_Message from Soonyoung: Hoonie says congrats ^^_

Seungcheol falls off the couch, landing with a thud on the carpeted floor. A huge grin spreads across his face, and his fingers are trembling with unprecedented happiness as he tries to type out a coherent reply, that wouldn't be riddled with mistakes or make him sound like a huge stalker. 

_Tell him I’ll see you guys in Japan._

He adds a smiling emoji at the last minute, even though he’s not really an emoji guy; just to come across as less cocky, and much friendlier. He stares at his phone screen, grinning, anticipating a reply, which comes almost instantaneously with a ping!

 _Hoonie just rolled his eyes, but he smiled, so it’s good ^^ Cheol-hyung, it’s getting late so goodnight! TTYL (_ _＾_ _▽_ _＾_ _)_

Seungcheol’s heart thumps faster, imagining Jihoon’s little smirk (though he still can’t get used to the petite diver’s red hair – he may or may not have a photo of blond Jihoon in action, in a gold-plated frame by his bedside for no absolute reason). Seungcheol shoots off a quick goodnight text, adding a snoring emoji; then sets his phone aside, smiling like a madman as he stares at the ceiling, Jihoon running through his mind. Or more accurately, soaring through the air in a well-executed somersault, flipping and twisting the same way Seungcheol’s heart does when he thinks about the diver.

A message from Jihoon (through Soonyoung)! His tired body is reenergized once more, and Seungcheol feels like he can swim fifty more laps right now.

Ironically, he yawns, and stretches languidly on the plush couch. He decides to rest his eyes for a moment, but he falls into a deep sleep, dreaming of a certain diver, whose hair is as red as roses.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **PROGRESS!** for cheol lol  
> what could possibly be cheol's next move? :o 
> 
> \+ disclaimer: i am not advertising for milkis, this was written when i had an addiction to it heh (it is a nice drink tho)
> 
> #####  feedback is highly appreciated 


	3. la vie en rose

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter song: [ iz*one's la vie en rose ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WZwr2a_lFWY)
> 
> bc with lee hoonie, seungcheol's life is la vie en rose 🌹

The last place swimming superstar Choi Seungcheol would be at - on one fine morning on a rare day off - is the florist. The shop assistant gapes at him as he enters, recognising him from the newspaper that she’s currently reading. There’s a huge photo of the swimmer plastered on the back page of the newspaper, posing triumphantly with his three gold medals he’d won yesterday. He looks out of place in a florist, especially that he’s wearing a leather jacket and ripped jeans.

Seungcheol glances around the store at the different floral arrangements, suddenly overwhelmed by the explosion of fragrant flowers. He’d never personally gotten anyone flowers, usually asking Chan to do so instead. 

Oh, the things he’d do for Jihoon…

“Good morning, how can I help you?” The florist puts on a smile, calling out to Seungcheol. It’s definitely her lucky day – she’s entertaining the guy printed in full colour on the back of her newspaper; and he looks even more handsome in person.

Seungcheol clears his throat. “I need a bouquet of roses.”

“That’s our most popular flower arrangement! This way, sir.” Enthusiastically, the florist emerges from behind the counter, leading the swimmer to a whole aisle full of different kinds of roses.

Seungcheol marvels at the various flower arrangements proudly displayed on the shelves; as the shopkeeper tells him about the different selections. He doesn’t really listen, though, already knowing what he’s going to buy, but doesn’t interrupt the florist in her unnecessarily detailed explanation of the different types and the meanings of roses available in the world. 

“The most popular is a bouquet of twelve roses, but we also have twenty-four roses. Ninety-nine roses are the most expensive, and usually those are for special occasions, like Valentine’s Day, or anniversaries.”

Jihoon only deserves the best, but wouldn’t it over the top if he sent a hundred roses to someone he barely knew? Might as well send a rose bush for him, then! No, Jihoon deserves a whole rose garden; and Seungcheol wouldn’t mind commissioning for it... he'll have Chan look it up for him soon. 

Seungcheol mulls over his decision, as the florist waits patiently, twiddling her thumbs, waiting on an opportunity to ask for an autograph soon after they complete this transaction. The swimmer convinces himself that he’s only sending flowers to celebrate Jihoon’s achievements; not because of romantic sentiments...

“I’ll take the bouquet of twelve. Red ones, please.” Seungcheol says, resisting the urge to buy the most expensive and most complicated flower arrangement in the whole store.

The florist nods enthusiastically, and hurries off to arrange the roses into a bouquet. Seungcheol lingers around in the small shop, looking around at the various arrays of flowers. The explosion of colours and fragrances of the different plants overwhelm him. He’d never seen so many kinds of flowers before in one place, having had no interest for them before.

But now, he doesn’t mind buying flowers every day, just for Jihoon.

If he even likes them.

Seungcheol’s eyes settle on an exotic flower arrangement – he can’t even describe how it looks like with words, but it looks different from the usual flowers he’s seen around Korea. The tag underneath it labels the plant as tiger lilies, and Seungcheol smiles to himself, noticing the uncanny resemblance of the flower to the animal.

Would Jihoon like exotic flowers instead of boring old roses?

But those roses really match his current hair colour, and Seungcheol wants to get that subtle message across.

The florist’s voice snaps Seungcheol out of his deep thought. “Sir? Your bouquet’s ready.”

“That’s quick.” The swimmer strides over to the counter, where the shopkeeper is holding a bouquet of twelve roses, wrapped neatly in pink and white paper, dotted with little white daisies to complete the arrangement.

“Would you like to attach a note?”

“Oh, that’ll be nice.” Seungcheol smiles, and the florist dies internally, melting under the radiance of his smile.

The florist pulls out a notepad and a pen, handing it over to Seungcheol. “Please write your message here, then I’ll rewrite it for you.”

Seungcheol hesitates. A personal message wouldn’t be that personal anymore if someone else wrote it out for him. “I’ll do it myself.”

The shopkeeper nods, and gives him some pink paper, some envelopes and a fancy pen; before busying herself with other flower arrangements to give him some privacy at the cashier counter.

Seungcheol thinks for a while, tapping the pen to his chin, before he begins to write. He tries to make his penmanship neater, and it’s already illegible to start with...

_Hey Cherry Bomb, you won yesterday’s diving event, but most importantly, you won my heart…_

Seungcheol can feel bile at the back of his throat. Too cheesy.

_I love your legs. They’re so white, like Milkis._

Too stalker-y. Seungcheol rips the paper into tiny little pieces and stuffs it into his jacket pocket. He takes a while to think of something, tapping the pen impatiently on the counter for the right words to form a coherent and appropriate sentence in his mind.

_Dear Jihoon, congratulations on winning yesterday’s diving events! Good luck at the World Championships, and I hope you enjoy these flowers._

The message seems fine, so Seungcheol quickly folds it up and puts it into an envelope before he can change his mind. He doesn’t sign the note, just in case Soonyoung notices the flowers and kicks up a tantrum because he’s not getting flowers too. 

As an afterthought, Seungcheol thinks of sending a box of cherry and orange flavoured Milkis to the address that Soonyoung had helpfully given him that morning. It hadn’t been difficult to coax it out of the diver, remembering their text conversation about it – he’d tried to be subtle, but Soonyoung didn’t ask many questions, mainly being distracted, talking about the shops in his neighbourhood. With Soonyoung’s explicit description, Seungcheol can practically imagine the area, down to the cracks on the sidewalk, and the friendly call of the auntie who owns the ramen shop nearby – and he’s never even been there!

He’s too shy (ha!) to deliver the flowers and Milkis on his own, so he calls Chan once he leaves the florist with the roses (after a quick autograph on his face on the back of today’s newspaper for the florist, who's probably going to frame the page and hang it on the wall).

His assistant picks up after three rings, sounding chipper as always. “Mr Seungcheol, sir. Do you need help?”

“Kind of. Have you sent the Milkis to Boo Seungkwan?”

“I’m about to pick them up.” Seungcheol gets his unlimited Milkis stock directly from its factory located on the outskirts of town, and even though he’s never visited the place, Chan’s been there numerous times on his behalf when the swimmer feels especially generous.

“Ah, then can you pick up a couple more boxes? One cherry and one orange.”

“So you want to send three boxes to Mr Boo?”

“Nooooooo.” Seungcheol shakes his head, even though Chan can’t see him over the line. “One box only for Boo Seungkwan. The other two boxes are for Jihoon and Soonyoung.”

“The divers, sir?”

“Yes.” Seungcheol huffs impatiently – he doesn’t know anyone else named Jihoon and Soonyoung; who else could he be referring to? “But before you send theirs, I need you to come and meet me.”

On the other end of the line, Chan seems to be writing something down on his clipboard, judging from the momentary silence. “I’m already on my way to get the beverages, sir. I’ll see you in…half an hour?”

Seungcheol hums. “Fine. I’ll text you my location.”

“See you.”

“Hurry.” Seungcheol hangs up.

* * *

The old hatchback that pulls right behind Seungcheol’s red-hot, limited edition Ferrari looks unfamiliar, and Seungcheol glimpses some stranger grinning at him from behind the wheel as Chan exits the car. The swimmer had been leaning against his own car waiting for Chan, playing Neko Atsume on his phone, abandoning the flowers aside for cute virtual kittens.

(His so-called bitter rival Wen Junhui recommended the game to him the last time they met at an international swim meet, and Seungcheol’s been addicted ever since, because the animations of the game are super cute. He’s been watching a cat named Snowball, rolling around with a bouncy red ball for a while now – for some reason, it reminds him of Jihoon.)

“Morning, sir!” The efficient young assistant checks his watch – he’d arrived in twenty-eight minutes! He hands Seungcheol a paper bag of pastries that he’d picked up on the way there. “Breakfast for you.”

“I already had breakfast though.” Seungcheol says, stuffing his phone into his pocket. Does instant coffee count as breakfast? The swimmer accepts the food that Chan’s holding out for him anyway, biting a huge chunk out of a bagel. Times like this, he’s grateful for Chan, who always remembers to feed him, since Seungcheol can’t be trusted to feed himself properly.

“Want some?” Seungcheol offers the paper bag to his assistant.

Chan shakes his head. “I’m good. So…”

Seungcheol quickly swallows his food, then grabs the bouquet of roses wrapped nicely in pink and white paper lying on the hood of his car, handing it to Chan.  

“Send this flowers to Jihoon… and Soonyoung for me?” Seungcheol says, adding Soonyoung as an afterthought. 

“No problem.” Chan grins knowingly – he’d seen this coming, starting from the dossier of Jihoon he had to compile for Seungcheol. “Soonyoung-hyung likes chicken, though.”

“Get some for them, too. Put it on my tab. Then you can have the day off.” Seungcheol instructs.

Chan doesn’t remind Seungcheol that it _is_ his day off, but he’s stuck doing errands...

“And get some chicken for yourself and…your friend.” Seungcheol nods to the guy waiting in the car that Chan had arrived in. The guy waves and grins at the swimmer; starstruck.

“Thanks, sir.” Chan grins, holding the bouquet gently as if it’s fragile.

“Oh, and don’t tell the divers it’s from me.”

“Wouldn’t it be obvious if I deliver it, sir? Everyone knows I’m your assistant. Especially Soonyoung-hyung.” Chan suggests, trying to keep his expression as neutral as possible. His boss is really going all out to win someone's heart, which has never happened before; and that someone just has to be the biggest ice prince this side of the world, who also has the nosiest person as his roommate and diving partner. 

Seungcheol taps his chin thoughtfully. “You’re right.”

“I can ask my friend Mingyu to help?” Chan says. “That’s him in the car.” He nods over to his friend, who waves enthusiastically back; excited to see Choi Seungcheol, the famous swimmer, with his own eyeballs. 

Seungcheol nods at Mingyu in acknowledgment, before turning back to his assistant. “As long as they don’t know it’s from me.”

Chan’s internally laughing, since no one else has access to unlimited supply of Milkis; but Seungcheol seems determined. It couldn’t be more obvious – Milkis and flowers and chicken as gifts… “I’ll be going now, sir. Do contact me if you need anything.” The boy hurries back to Mingyu’s car, eager to complete his errands.

“See you, kid.” Seungcheol enters his supercar, and zooms away, leaving the area in a cloud of dust, hoping that everything would go according to plan. 

* * *

Soonyoung’s screaming his head off, so Jihoon drags himself out of his warm bed just to check on him, just in case his (best?) friend is on fire or is being kidnapped. Jihoon wouldn’t mind the peace and quiet he’d get if Soonyoung gets abducted, but there’ll be a lot of inquisitions and red tape from the police if the orange-haired man does go missing. Besides, he needs Soonyoung as partner for the World Championships soon, and it would be a hassle trying to replace him.

Sighing, Jihoon wraps himself in his blanket and pads out into the living room, where he sees a freakishly tall giant at the front door, handing a bouquet of roses to Soonyoung. There are also a couple of boxes of cherry and orange Milkis stacked by the door; so it’s probably from their fans again. It’s a bit creepy, though, for them to send gifts to their personal address. Soonyoung seems to like getting presents anyway, and their apartment is littered with fan mail and a pile of unsorted presents that keeps growing, almost reaching the ceiling. Jihoon’s thinking about moving out, but Soonyoung would want to come too, then publish their address online for the world to send presents to them – it’d be the same thing again anyway, so it would be better to stay put at their current apartment.

The boxes of Milkis by the door stand out to Jihoon, because he knows that there’s only one person who actively endorses Milkis in the whole wide world. His brain quickly puts two and two together, remembering whose face is plastered on every billboard all across Korea (and some parts in Japan), advertising the milky yogurt drink with his million-dollar gummy smile. In fact, there’s one right outside his bedroom window, and every morning when he wakes up, he sees Choi Seungcheol’s stupidly handsome face, advertising the sparkling yogurt drink. His blood boils just thinking of it, and he balls his hands into fists.

“Who’s it from?” Soonyoung asks the stranger, cradling the bouquet of roses, bouncing excitedly on the balls of his feet. He hasn’t noticed Jihoon standing in the middle of the living room, being a blanketed human burrito judging him.

“Anonymous.” Tall Guy says with an apologetic grin and a casual shrug.

“Wow.” Soonyoung presses his nose into the flowers, inhaling its sickly sweet scent. “What’s your name?”

“Mingyu.” The giant replies, cocking his head to one side, much like an inquisitive puppy - he's not sure where this conversation is going...

“Thank you, Mingyu, for sending these. Wanna take a selfie?” Soonyoung offers out of nowhere. Jihoon rolls his eyes internally - Soonyoung’s always been good at fanservice – but he really needs Tall Guy Mingyu gone so that he can confront his housemate.  

“Ooh, can I?” Mingyu doesn’t lose any time, instantly taking his phone out of his back pocket.

Jihoon simply watches Soonyoung take several selfies with the tall guy as he hovers around unnoticed in the living room, eyeballing Soonyoung’s empty cereal bowl on the coffee table; Spongebob playing on mute on the television. Clearly, he’s living with a child trapped in a man’s body…

“Thanks again, Mingyu!” Soonyoung hands the phone back to the lanky boy, when they’re done taking several posed selfies.

“Ah, it’s no problem.” Mingyu smiles again, almost knocking his head against the doorframe, thanks to his immense height. He jogs down six flights of stairs – why, oh why didn’t that building have an elevator; his back’s starting to ache because he carried two boxes of Milkis and a bouquet of flowers upstairs in one trip to save time.

“Mission complete!” Mingyu flashes an okay sign when he sees Chan lounging around by the pavement, waiting for him.

“Hyung, you forgot the chicken.” Chan holds out some takeaway boxes; the aroma of fried chicken already filling in the air.

Mingyu sighs, pressing his fingers into his lumbar spine to ease the pain. “Do I have to go upstairs again?” He wipes some sweat from his brow. This isn’t what he signed up for today; he was only supposed to chauffeur young Chan around as requested, not play delivery boy.

“Sorry, hyung.” Chan shrugs. “They can’t know it’s me or Mr Seungcheol.”

“You owe me.” Mingyu grits, grabbing the food, and enters the apartment building once more, ascending six floors to Soonyoung and Jihoon’s shared apartment.  

Meanwhile, Soonyoung’s excited at the arrival of the gifts, humming happily as he inspects the boxes. “Milkis, Milkis.”

Jihoon clears his throat, making awareness of his presence, and Soonyoung looks at his housemate.

“Flowers, Hoonie!” Soonyoung waves the bouquet excitedly, and some petals drop to the floor of their apartment.

Suddenly, there’s another knock on the door, and Soonyoung, who’s the closest, pulls it open.

“Chicken delivery!” It’s Mingyu again, grinning widely, with a box of chicken balanced on the palm of his hand. He’s slightly panting, gasping to catch his breath after climbing six flights of stairs in record time.

“We didn’t order chicken. And you don’t look like a delivery boy.” Soonyoung sets the bouquet down on the stack of Milkis boxes, and crosses his arms.

“These came with the flowers.” Mingyu leans against the door frame, holding out the box of food; its delicious scent wafting throughout the apartment, alerting Jihoon's senses...

Soonyoung taps his chin sceptically, like he didn’t just take a bunch of selfies with the poor guy at the door just minutes ago. “Who sends chicken with flowers? That’s a really odd combination.” He narrows his eyes at Mingyu, who’s already starting to sweat profusely under Soonyoung’s not-so-threatening glare.

In the living room, Jihoon rolls his eyes; because Soonyoung is being ridiculous. Once he makes it big in the diving world, he’s going to move out and live alone – boarding with Soonyoung makes him feel allergic to people. Or at least, to people like Soonyoung; innocent idiots who somehow survive in the harsh, harsh world.

(But if he moves out, no one would tell Soonyoung not to cook a raw egg in the microwave. Or tell him to take out the trash. Or make sure he eats proper meals, not just cereal and ‘healthy’ shakes made of cucumber and eggplant.)  

“It’s from an anonymous sender, Mr Soonyoung.” Mingyu stutters, fearing that his cover might have been blown. 

Soonyoung tiptoes, trying to make himself level with Mingyu, closely scrutinizing the man’s nervous expression. “What if it’s poisoned? You’re hiding something…” Mingyu slowly backs up, tilting the takeaway box, and it’s about to fall…

Jihoon marches over to Mingyu and snatches the box of chicken away from him. “Thank you for the food. You can leave now.”

“R-right. Good luck at the World Championships!” Mingyu smiles nervously, then hurries off without even looking back, practically flying down the six flights of stairs.

Jihoon shuts the door, as Soonyoung suddenly grabs the food from him.

“Nice, now we’ve got lunch!” Soonyoung waltzes into the kitchen with the box of chicken.

Jihoon gently kicks the boxes of Milkis towards the kitchen, still clutching his precious blanket around him. Noticing the bouquet of flowers – which he has no use for, since they’re going to die in a few days anyway, what a waste of money – he picks it up and finds the note tucked among the stems.

_Dear Jihoon, congratulations on winning yesterday’s diving events! Good luck at the World Championships, and I hope you enjoy these flowers._

No, Jihoon's not going to be like those girls from Those Romantic Movies, pressing up his nose to inhale the sickly sweet scent of the roses before swooning onto the couch in a ditzy heap, thinking of anonymous admirers. Jihoon stares at the bouquet lying limply on the stacked boxes of Milkis, and he knows it doesn't come cheap. Hell, even a single rose is expensive, let alone a dozen...

“Now, who would be oh-so-kind to send us flowers, Hoonie?” Soonyoung calls out, watching his friend reread the pink note.

“It’s unsigned. And it’s for me.” Jihoon says, his throat suddenly dry; his body feeling warm all over, so he tosses his blanket onto the couch.

“And chicken and Milkis!” The orange-haired diver scuttles over to rip open one of the takeaway boxes, his mouth already full of chicken. “Best day ever! Who do you think sent it?”

 _Choi Seungcheol_ , Jihoon replies in his head, but his tongue is frozen.

Choi Seungcheol, that arrogant and privileged prick, who thinks he’s the best of them all; sending him flowers and Milkis and chicken and a nice note to top it all?

The boxes of Milkis are dead giveaways; there's no questioning it. But why would Choi Seungcheol suddenly congratulate him and send gifts? Jihoon remembers the only encounter he had with the star swimmer – he’d appeared cold, and confrontational, just because Jihoon had breached into two seconds of his practice time; and he wasn’t even using the pool intended for swimmers! 

“I wish I knew, so I could thank that person.” Soonyoung pours himself a glass of Milkis, then shoves another bottle into their fridge. “You’d better come and eat, Hoonie, otherwise, I’m gonna finish the chicken.”

Jihoon puts the note and flowers down, joining his friend in their chicken feast. He hesitates, knowing that Choi Seungcheol had the chicken delivered, and thinks of ordering a pizza instead; but food never comes free and it would be bad luck to turn good things away. The chicken’s good, exactly the way how he likes it, and he enjoys his food, bickering with Soonyoung over the last drumstick.

Still, he can’t help but feel uneasy at the sudden happenings, because he hates Choi Seungcheol’s guts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hoom isn't making things easier, lol
> 
> ######  feedback is love 


	4. getting closer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter song: seventeen's [ getting closer](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cr_lx0GSfrA)
> 
> because cheol and hoon are (somewhat) getting closer 😉

Jihoon’s just a diver. He’d always loved this sport - a combination of acrobatics and partial swimming that needs insane focus and bravery. Not anyone can backflip ten metres off a platform into a pool of cold water down below, and Jihoon’s been training for this since he had been tiny, playfully cannonballing into the pool. From then onwards, it had blossomed into his passion, learning how to dive off the springboard at first, then slowly picking up complicated tricks and turns along the way. He loves the adrenaline rush when he launches off the platform, the cold breeze brushing past his hair; and the way the water envelopes his body once he breaks beneath the surface of the water.

He’s been practicing for years, and all his hard work paid off. He’s now the star diver of the national team, even though he’s only a rookie, standing on the international stage for the first time, but he would never let that daunt him. No one else on the diving team is as dedicated as he is, and certainly no one trains for more events like he does. One could even say that he’s Choi Seungcheol’s diving counterpart – definitely a rising star with talent and passion, mirroring the swimmer’s – but Jihoon wouldn’t hesitate to push anyone off the ten metres platform if he catches them uttering those words.

Ever since he was young, he’d always chased after glory. The sweet, sweet taste of victory, symbolised by the glittering gold medals he’d win, were tokens of all the precious time he’d invested in diving. Jihoon doesn’t remember a day in his life that passes by without diving, or at least he would do something related to diving like swimming, acrobatics or parkour, which tests his agility and flexibility.

Right now, he’s standing on top of the highest point in the aquatic arena; the sequence of his somersault imprinted in his mind. His toes are at the edge of the 10 metres platform, and it’s a long, long drop to the water below. He’s got to perfect this move for the World Championships in Japan, which commences in a mere three weeks, so he harnesses all of his energy and focus only into this one single moment. He’s got to be perfect. Nothing can break his focus –

“Hello, Seungcheol-sunbaenim!” Soonyoung singsongs from down below; and Jihoon freezes at the mention of that name. From his perch on the diving platform, he spies Choi Seungcheol strolling into the pool area with a big smile on his face, returning Soonyoung’s greeting.

“Yo, Soonyoung. Practicing late?” The deep voice belonging to none other than a Certain Choi replies, sending weird tingles down Jihoon’s bare arms.

“We’ll be off soon, I’m just waiting for Hoonie.” Soonyoung replies cheerfully; then starts talking about something completely irrelevant that Jihoon tries not to listen to, even from his spot up on the ten metres platform.

Jihoon sharply inhales, trying to block out Seungcheol and Soonyoung’s loud conversation – he’s got to retain his focus to perfect his routine. A quick glance towards the huge digital clock on the wall shows that the swimmer has arrived twenty minutes too early before his own training session, so Jihoon’s not at fault this time.

Just because Seungcheol is everyone’s favourite doesn’t mean he gets to bully Jihoon out of his extra practice time. He’s going to finish this routine, then soak in the hot tub to relax his tired body. And Choi Seungcheol isn’t going to get in the way.

Now, only if Soonyoung would just shut up for a moment, so he can focus and get this over with…

“Uh, excuse me, but I really gotta go pee-pee.” Soonyoung says, and rushes off to the locker rooms.

Jihoon thanks all the goodness in the world for the silence; ignoring the fact that he’s alone in the arena with Choi freaking Seungcheol.

The guy who sent flowers and a month’s supply of Milkis to him, just to congratulate him for qualifying for the World Championships. The guy he barely knows, only introduced after a confrontational showdown, fighting over practice times. The guy who’s the nation’s favourite, getting preferential treatment from just about everyone in the whole damn country!

Jihoon can feel his heart accelerating at the thought of Choi Seungcheol – no, not in a good way; just the kind of weird, fluttery feeling when he feels uneasy. But Jihoon quickly shakes it off, it’s not the time to deal with his thoughts and feelings – he’s got a dive to complete.

The red-haired diver positions himself so that his back faces the pool, his heels hanging off the edge of the platform. Three and a half somersaults, difficulty level: high. Guaranteed for a podium finish, if he pulls this off. Without hesitation, he backflips off the platform, but he accidentally loses his footing and his momentum, and falls ten metres straight into the cold water below with a ginormous splash.

All in front of Choi Seungcheol.

Water surrounds him, bitingly cold – almost like a punishment for his careless mistake. He knows he’d made a mistake, and he wishes that he doesn’t need to surface, like ever, after that slip-up – he could’ve seriously injured himself, putting him out of commission for the most important competition in his life. He’d done the exact same move earlier flawlessly during training, with their coach watching and praising him right after; so why couldn’t he do it now?

He holds his breath and shuts his eyes tightly underwater, berating himself for that mistake; trying to focus his mind onto his diving routine. Just the mere thought of Choi Seungcheol broke his concentration, and he punches empty water in front of him; the drag from the water making his movements look like he’s in slow motion.

Suddenly an arm loops around his torso from behind him, and he’s being forcefully dragged back to the surface. Jihoon struggles, trying to escape, but the person’s grip is too strong. The warmth of the person behind him is an inviting contrast to the cold water, all skin and sinewy muscles pressed up against Jihoon’s back.

He’s heard of kidnappings, but none has been attempted in the pool…unless the person thinks he’s drowning. Jihoon’s starting to feel a little light headed, deprived of oxygen – he’d stayed underwater longer that he’d thought - so he gives up struggling and lets his saviour pull him to the surface.

When they break the surface of the water, Jihoon gulps in a lungful of air, then turns around to look at the person who’d saved him from almost drowning (Coach Hong wouldn’t like it if he found out, even if it isn’t a big deal. He would probably make Jihoon rest for days, and he’d lose precious practice time).  

Of course, it has to be Choi Seungcheol, looking oh-so-photogenic with pearls of water hanging precariously on his infamous long eyelashes; some dribbling down his sharp jawline, emphasising his handsome features. His wet hair is somehow stylishly flattened down on his forehead; like he’s filming a commercial or something!

“What the hell?” Jihoon twists away from Seungcheol in disgust, but the swimmer holds on tightly onto him.

“Don’t move, let me bring you to the poolside.” Seungcheol’s trying to tow them both back, thinking that Jihoon is weak and helpless and needs CPR after this. He’ll gladly do so, even though he’s not properly trained to do that, but hey, he’s got enough experience with mouth-to-mouth (of a different variety, mind you) and maybe Jihoon would like it enough and wake up and thank him with a proper kiss…

“I wasn’t drowning, you moron!” Jihoon elbows Seungcheol, forcing the swimmer to release his iron grip.

“You were down there long enough, I thought you drowned.” Seungcheol says with a little pout and a sad tone, his wishes of kissing Jihoon poofing away from his dirty mind.

“I’m perfectly fine. You don’t need to worry about me, idiot.” Jihoon says with an angry splash.

Seungcheol doesn’t reply immediately; he’s busy scrutinizing Jihoon’s features, memorising and appreciating every little detail, from the delicious curve of his lips to the angry knot between his eyebrows – man, he looks even more amazing up close, it’s intoxicating. “Are you sure?”

“Race you to the poolside.” Jihoon quickly swims off, but between them, Seungcheol’s the professional swimmer, so they make it to the side of the pool at the same time. Jihoon hoists himself out of the water instantly, noticing Seungcheol’s street clothes discarded on the floor in disarray as he grabs his shammy to dry himself off.

“You sure you okay?” Seungcheol’s right behind Jihoon, unnecessarily worrying a little too much about the diver.  

Jihoon doesn’t want to turn around, because he doesn’t need any more distraction from the swimmer, but a hand rests on his bare shoulder, turning him around. He finds himself facing Seungcheol’s toned chest and oh god he’s wearing nothing but his underwear, which are wet after his unprecedented rescue mission; the fabric clinging tightly around his balls and dick, leaving nothing to Jihoon’s imagination.  

No wonder he’s a big dick; it’s because he has one as well!

Seungcheol’s still dripping wet, standing there in all of his almost naked glory; and Jihoon doesn’t know where to look, trying to avert his gaze from Seungcheol’s incredibly distracting lower body. His upper body is distracting too, Jihoon decides, all lovely sun-kissed skin and well-defined muscles that are always hidden under a full body suit.

Scratch it, Choi Seungcheol is distracting, overall.

And no, he wasn’t the distraction that caused Jihoon to mess up his diving sequence earlier. Most certainly not.  

“I’m fine.” Jihoon mutters; the back of his neck turning red (in anger, no, he wasn’t blushing because of Seungcheol). He’s wishing for Seungcheol to leave and start practice or something, but the swimmer doesn’t budge, as a puddle of water pool around his feet, the almost hopeful look in his eyes indicating he’s waiting for something more.

A thank you? A hug? A kiss? A quick shag in the locker rooms, since they’re already both down to their underwear? (Well, Jihoon’s only wearing a speedo, and that’s almost underwear too.)

There’s a palpable tension in the air, and Jihoon doesn’t like it one bit, because the weird fluttery feeling in his gut is becoming worse, it’s like elephants are having a dance party in there. He can hear his heartbeat ringing in his ears, as his mind blanks out with annoyance and anger. He wrings his shammy, hoping that everything would just go back to normal where none of this happened...

“I don’t know what happened up there, but you should probably practice more.” Seungcheol suddenly offers his own two cents, crossing his arms over his chest.

Jihoon seethes with anger, his face turning red. Now, he’s even offering advice when it’s not in his place to do so – who does he think he is? Jihoon doesn’t know how, but he certainly knows why: Choi Seungcheol irritates him to no end with his stupid handsome face and stupid hot body and national favouritism and being nosy in people’s business by sending them gifts and trying to save people and giving advice when they shouldn’t!

“What?” Another chance to fix your words, pretty boy. Jihoon clenches his fists; his jaw tightening. No one challenges his diving technique… especially not this prick standing around in his wet underwear, no matter how famous or handsome he is.

“That bit was dangerous, maybe you should revise your dive.” Seungcheol shrugs, appearing all breezy about the situation, but Jihoon finds it condescending instead. “I won’t be here all the time to save you.”

“I don’t need your input! Do you think diving is that easy?” Jihoon explodes, his voice cracking. His eye twitches with annoyance, and he grips his shammy tighter, ready to whip Seungcheol with it if he dares to utter another insulting word…

Seungcheol doesn’t say anything else, shocked at Jihoon’s sudden outburst. To him, it still did look really simple – but like every professional, he knows how much time that has been invested simply for practice just to get to this level. Hard work, throughout the years – it’s not an easy road to get to the top. He keeps a neutral expression, though, eyeballing Jihoon’s lithe frame.

Jihoon advances towards the star swimmer, ready to put up a fight. “You think you know the first thing about diving?”

Seungcheol smirks. “Hmmmm. Jumping into a pool from different heights. Sounds tough.” He’s got teasing bite to his tone, and he’s not scared of the furious diver, who’s about to pounce onto him (he’d welcome that, really). He’s trying to lighten the mood, not expecting Jihoon to react violently to his earlier statement.

“Huh. I’d like to see you try.” Jihoon scoffs, crossing his arms over his bare chest as Seungcheol draws even closer.

“Can’t. I don’t have a speedo.” Seungcheol’s tone is monotonous, but his eyes have a playful sparkle.

Jihoon looks like he wants to strangle someone, but he’s also thrown off by Seungcheol’s offhand remark. “What?”

Seungcheol simply smirks, testing the boundaries. “I don’t need one. Don’t think it’ll fit.” He gestures to his crotch for added effect, and Jihoon glances at it briefly, following Seungcheol’s gestures, before he quickly looks away, blushing hard.

The diver snorts angrily, quickly brushing off Seungcheol’s innuendo (though there’s no guarantee that he can erase the image of Seungcheol’s crotch from his mind in the near future). “Well, not everyone can dive, so keep your sage words to yourself!” Jihoon aggressively points his index finger towards Seungcheol’s chest in warning.

“Yes, sir.” The star swimmer puts his hands up in surrender, seeing that Jihoon’s not one to back down easily. He realises that he’d gone too far with his teasing.  

“I’m not talking to you anymore.” Jihoon wants to dry himself off properly – he’s feeling a little chilly, being just out of the pool and wearing only a speedo, so he turns his back towards Seungcheol. “Everyone in this room can swim, anyway, like that’s the hardest thing on earth.” He mutters, loud enough so Seungcheol can hear.

_The hardest thing on earth is my dick right now, seeing you all wet from the pool._ That’s the first thing that pops in Seungcheol’s mind, but he doesn’t have a death wish, so he doesn’t voice it out.

“Well, I was a silver medallist at last year’s world championships! Second best in the world!” Seungcheol retaliates lamely, unsure how to diffuse the tension.

Jihoon snorts and rolls his eyes, turning back to meet the star swimmer. “That means you’re the first loser, loser.”

Seungcheol suddenly finds himself alone in the aquatic arena, crushed by the redhead’s biting last words and sudden disappearance, marked by the loud slam of a door.

* * *

“Good work today, Mr Seungcheol, sir. You’ve cut off a millionth of a second from your previous record for the butterfly. Coach Yoon would be happy to hear that.” Chan reports, as Seungcheol dries himself off with a towel. It had been three hours of gruelling training for Seungcheol that day, and now he deserves a good meal and a hug for comfort.

For once, he’s not thinking about his performance in the pool; he’s reflecting the conversation he had with Jihoon earlier, before the diver stormed off angrily into the locker rooms, never to be seen again.

Seungcheol feels like an immature twelve-year-old with the vocabulary of a kindergartener when faced with Jihoon – struggling to find the right words; cracking inappropriate jokes. For the first time since they’ve met, Seungcheol feels like Jihoon doesn’t like him a bit. Or maybe a lot. Which isn’t helping, since Seungcheol likes Jihoon a bit. Maybe a lot. Which is weird, since their exchanges are nothing but fragmented arguments; yet Seungcheol craves more interaction with the enigmatic diver, hoping to make him smile at least once.

Seungcheol’s made the Jihoon-dossier his bible, flicking through the pages every night before he goes to sleep; burning the image of Jihoon’s little dimple into his memory, plotting up cute little scenes of how he’d get Jihoon to smile. His obsession – interest (?) – in Jihoon is starting to get a bit unhealthy.

Maybe the little rescue mission he did was uncalled for, since Jihoon wasn’t actually drowning; but Seungcheol liked the memory of Jihoon’s small body pressed up against his - skin on skin, a perfect fit in his arms. But he’s just distraught about Jihoon’s flagrant expression earlier; he can clearly remember the fury in the diver’s eyes, and the scowl on his pretty face. Maybe he’d said something wrong; maybe he’d taken things too far, but he’s not even sure what it is.   

Seungcheol’s wondering if he should buy more flowers for Jihoon - this time as an apology.

“So we’ll go eat, then you have some free time off in the afternoon. You have to go to the gym in the evening, sir, I’ll remind you about that again.” Chan’s reading Seungcheol’s itinerary for the day from his clipboard; but the swimmer is barely listening. Instead, he strips his bodysuit down to his waist and stalks off to the showers without a word.

Chan had noticed the shift in Seungcheol’s mood ever since practice started. Seungcheol had already been there when Chan arrived – always five minutes before practice – looking glum, sitting on a bench wearing only his underwear; his eyebrows knitted, deep in thought.

Not one to ask too many questions, he’d coaxed his boss into starting practice early, which paid off as Seungcheol channelled all of his negative energy into his swimming. Chan had never seen Seungcheol so pumped up before, not even during important swim meets, or the World Championships last year.

Chan hurries after his boss to the locker room and waits, arranging Seungcheol’s belongings according to size. It’s a while before Seungcheol emerges from one of the shower cubicles and dresses in his street clothes he’d been wearing earlier before practice.

Chan notices that Seungcheol’s boxers are hanging out to dry – is the swimmer going commando under those sweats? – but he doesn’t say anything, of course. Seungcheol silently packs said underwear into his bag, then turns toward his assistant with the saddest look on his face.

“Chan, can I have a hug? Please?”

The assistant’s eyes blow wide open at the sudden request, and he knows he can’t say no; not when Seungcheol’s looking so down, his shoulders slumped. So Chan reluctantly curls up into Seungcheol’s strong arms and let his boss hold him tightly for five whole minutes.

“Let’s go get some food for you, sir.” Chan can barely breathe in Seungcheol’s embrace, patting Seungcheol’s back gently as a signal to let him go.

“Alright.” Seungcheol nods, looking slightly better after the hug. “I want meat.” He leads the way out of the swim arena, his assistant following closely.

Chan’s uneasy about the change in Seungcheol’s mood, because Coach Yoon wouldn’t be happy if this affects Seungcheol’s performance in the pool; so the young assistant would do anything he needs to keep his boss in check.

It’s unlikely that the star swimmer would confide in him, so if things get bad, Chan knows he’s got to take action so that Seungcheol is always the best.

* * *

Seungcheol finally finds himself in his own king-sized bed with its thousand-count thread sheets at the end of the day. For the first time, he feels like the whole penthouse is too big, too empty. He doesn’t sleep a wink that night, agonizing over how to make things up with Jihoon.

Flowers wouldn’t cut it this time, Seungcheol thinks he’d messed up too much.

Milkis?

He remembered he’d sent two boxes already; Jihoon might think that someone’s trying to sabotage him by pumping him full of the fizzy yogurt drink. Seungcheol rolls over in his bed, sighing, because for once, his foolproof method of gifting won’t work.

He needs a grand gesture, and not anonymously this time. Jihoon needs to know that Seungcheol’s genuinely sorry; but just what can he do?

Seungcheol gets out of bed at dawn, and heads straight for the shower – he does his best thinking there. Under the jets of hot water, he gets a brainwave, a smile curling onto his face.

He knows exactly how he’s going to win Lee Jihoon’s heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> uh oh what is he going to do


	5. hashtag cookie jar

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> pls accept this huge chapter from me :(
> 
> chapter title: [red velvet's #cookie jar](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rRgTMs_bGuI) bc well, cookies. giant ones.

Chan is confused.

Seungcheol had sent him a long, garbled text message at three in the morning, and it all seemed urgent. He only sees the message a few hours later when he wakes up, instantly bundling out of bed before he even finishes reading it. Instinctively pulling on a hoodie and jeans, he grabs his backpack and clipboard sitting by the door, before flying out of his apartment, careful not to wake up his friend Mingyu, who is still in deep slumber, snoring away.

Chan arrives at Seungcheol’s penthouse soon enough, tapping his foot anxiously as he enters a shiny elevator from the equally shiny lobby, gliding up to the topmost floor of one of the most expensive buildings in the most exclusive neighbourhood in the city. He’s anxious and completely clueless, because Seungcheol’s text didn’t really make sense to him, so he figured he’d see his boss as soon as possible, just to make sure he’s okay.

If anything happens to Seungcheol, Chan feels like he’d be responsible.

The penthouse is eerily dark as he enters; the remote-controlled ceiling-to-floor windows set to opaque, hindering sunlight from entering. His thoughts are already leaning towards worst-case scenarios – he’d watched enough crime dramas to know what could possibly happen to his high-profile boss – as he inches towards the kitchen, where he finds Seungcheol covered in white powder, pouring some clear liquid into a bowl.

Chan’s heart drops to the floor; all his respect for Seungcheol going down the drain. He’d always looked up to his boss, for being so hardworking and professional (which completely changed when he met Lee Jihoon), but he’d never thought that Seungcheol would ever turn to drugs and liquor…

The nonsensical text message. The darkened penthouse. Everything pointed towards a darker context, probably the beginning of Seungcheol’s downward spiral…. How could Chan miss all the signs before this? He prided himself on being observant, always being a step ahead of his boss, taking care of his boss’s needs. His heart aches, seeing Seungcheol snort cocaine right in front of him… he’d have to do the right thing and call the authorities, even though it would destroy Seungcheol’s pristine reputation…

“Crack three eggs in a bowl.” Seungcheol mutters, as reads the instructions from a printout he’d gotten from the internet late last night.

“Sir?” Chan calls out cautiously, hoping that Seungcheol wouldn’t suddenly attack him.

Seungcheol glances up, looking ridiculous with flour on his nose. “Good, you’re here!” He looks completely sober, even though he seems to be out of his right mind, making a huge mess in his own kitchen that he rarely ever uses.

“What happened?”

Seungcheol laughs. “The bag of flour exploded when I tried to open it.” He explains sheepishly, gesturing to the remnants of some plastic packaging on the flour-covered counter, which is lined up with numerous baking ingredients and utensils. In fact, the whole kitchen is dusted with flour, like it had been snowing indoors.

Chan’s partly relieved – his assumptions had been completely wrong – but the scene in front of him seems a bit too much to handle this early in the morning. He’d hurried all the way here at the asscrack of dawn, worrying himself into an unnecessary headache, to find Choi Seungcheol **baking.**

“So…what are you doing?” Chan tries to sound upbeat, yet he can’t help but wonder if this is another one of Seungcheol’s plans to woo Lee Jihoon…

“I decided to make cookies!” Seungcheol grins childishly, wiping his forehead with his shirtsleeve, smearing more flour all over his face.

Chan could practically imagine the 8pm news headlines: _Fiery Blaze at Star Swimmer’s Penthouse,_ or something long-winded and dramatic, in the typical, exaggerated style of news reporting. All because Seungcheol wants to bake, which Chan is sure he’d never done before in his life.

“Did you cancel everything for today?” Seungcheol’s asking, as Chan rubs his arms, trying to soothe himself from the odd chill of dread running all over his body.

Chan hesitates, already pulling up Seungcheol’s schedule in his mind. Today is supposed to be a busy day for Seungcheol, packed with interviews and an exclusive photoshoot, not forgetting his fitness sessions to help him keep in top shape. All that involves a lot of important people, and they couldn’t simply drop them, especially the press interviews that had been scheduled weeks ago.

What’s he supposed to tell the editors of the high-end fashtion magazine – who prided on the fact that they’re the first to feature a swimmer on the cover, in addition to twelve full-colour spreads – that Seungcheol would rather bake than attend the interview and photoshoot?

Media damage control is one thing Chan finds difficult, but he could always find a way to comply with Seungcheol’s wishes, even though Chan would be the one to feel the wrath from the magazine editors later. Maybe if Seungcheol isn’t too distracted, he’ll get Seungcheol to call the editors for a charming apology, which usually works, so that could be settled easily.

“I… we could reschedule some stuff.” Chan concedes. He could always spin up some vague explanation that Seungcheol’s busy; omitting the fact that he’s busy baking, of all things.

“You do that. I’m gonna crack these eggs.” Seungcheol picks one up from an egg carton lying on the dirty granite counter, holding it up. Even the egg has a sheen of flour layering its shell, the disastrous result of a star swimmer trying to open a packet of flour.

Chan nods, pulling his phone out of his pocket, already mentally composing apologetic emails to the parties affected; but he stops midway when he sees Seungcheol’s questionable method of cracking eggs. The man might be Korea’s best in swimming, but he’s probably the nation’s worst in the kitchen – he’s trying the crack the raw egg by smashing its pointy end against the mixing bowl, and the egg explodes, sending debris of broken egg shells and yolk all over the counter.

(Chan makes a mental note to decline any offers for Seungcheol to appear in cooking shows of TV, just to protect his image, even though his fans might find his cooking fool persona adorable.)

“Maybe I’ll crack the eggs, sir.” Chan offers to take over Seungcheol’s place.

Seungcheol nods, staring at the yellow gunk on his hand. He watches the younger crack several eggs carefully into the mixing bowl, then offers to take charge once more, energetically beating the eggs with a whisk. They try to follow the recipe that Seungcheol found, as close as possible; and since Seungcheol doesn’t have a weighing scale or a measuring cup, most of their measurements are just estimations. Seungcheol merrily dumps half a packet of sugar into the mixing bowl when Chan reads out that they need 150 grams.

Whoever would have to eat these cookies (most likely Jihoon, even though Seungcheol never said anything about it) might just get a sugar rush, quadrupled; but Chan supposes that the cookies would be better off extra sweet, rather than bland and tasteless.

“How many cookies are we making, sir?” The young assistant asks, tired after manually mixing all the ingredients together for a while, making sure the dough is properly blended.

“Is it possible to lump all this cookie dough into one huge cookie?” Seungcheol wonders.

Chan’s not sure, so he gives a noncommittal smile and shrug.

Seungcheol grins at Chan’s validation, then grabs the wooden spoon that Chan’s holding, to continue mixing the dough.

“Sir, we have a lot of dough.” Chan says, peering into the mixing bowl, which is filled to the brim with cookie dough.

“Then we make two huge cookies!”

Chan looks at his boss in disbelief, but the child-like excitement on Seungcheol’s flour-streaked face is one that he hasn’t seen in a while. He’s actually having fun baking, eating about half of the bag of chocolate chips that they need to add into the cookie mix.

Not even in an alternate universe Choi Seungcheol would attempt to bake cookies and have tons of fun while at it, and Chan knows, that one (1) red-headed diver could’ve induced this jovial mood.

“Alright then.” Chan lays out the baking tray, hoping that it’s enough to fit all the cookie dough. Meanwhile, Seungcheol starts to dump the cookie mix onto the tray, trying to make it into a decent cookie shape, but it turns out uneven and lumpy.

“Y’know what this reminds me of?” Seungcheol’s extra happy and chatty today, and Chan thinks it’s because of the sugar rush from snacking off the chocolate chips.

“What is it, sir?”

“Play-Doh.” Seungcheol licks the remnants of cookie dough off his fingers, then his face scrunches as the sweetness of the mixture.  

“Except that you can’t eat Play-Doh, sir.” Chan says matter-of-factly, and his boss bursts out giggling.

At the back of Chan’s mind, there’s a little niggling thought that his boss has changed since that day he laid eyes on Jihoon – he’s more relaxed, and prone to making bad decisions. He feels bad for thinking that Seungcheol would ever try drugs, but he supposes that seeing Jihoon gives Seungcheol the same high, filling his brain with happy hormones.  Still, Chan knows he’s got to keep his boss in check, otherwise, Coach Yoon would hunt him down for letting Seungcheol spin out of control – he’s got an image to take care of. But right now, Chan feels like he’s spending time with his older brother, though never in a million years he’d imagine baking cookies with Seungcheol.

By noon, they have two giant chocolate chip cookies. Seungcheol lets Chan take one home, wrapping it in baking paper specially for the boy.

“Thanks for today, Channie.” Seungcheol ruffles the younger’s hair.

“No problem, sir.” Chan wipes the kitchen counter clean, making the dark granite sparkle once more.

“Remind me of tomorrow’s schedule.”

Chan hurries to dig his trusty clipboard out of his backpack he’d dropped onto the floor, then recites Seungcheol’s itinerary for the next day, which includes a morning training session, followed by a meeting with the national swim association in the afternoon.

“Back to work tomorrow, I guess.” Seungcheol sighs, after Chan reviews tomorrow’s schedule.

Chan checks his watch; it’s only around lunchtime. “Do you still want to go to the gym later, sir?”

“Nah.” Seungcheol says, playing with the wrapping on one of the cookies. He’s got other things on his mind; already thinking of the perfect introduction when he hand-delivers the homemade cookie to Jihoon later.

“Right.” Chan doesn’t fret, because Seungcheol could easily work out at his home gym at any time. At least Seungcheol’s fitness trainer is flexible, never minding when Chan calls to cancel Seungcheol’s sessions, though he gives homework for Seungcheol to do, like three hundred squats and bench presses, which Chan strictly monitors.

“Let’s order some lunch, I’m starving. And later, you can have the afternoon off!” Seungcheol smiles widely, all teeth and gums.

Chan returns the smile, before he goes to order takeout from Seungcheol’s favourite restaurant.

The penthouse still smells of freshly baked goods when their lunch gets delivered. Settling on the plush sofa in Seungcheol’s living room, they chat as they eat their lunch, a movie playing quietly on the sixty-inch wall mounted plasma television.

Seungcheol sends Chan off with a giant cookie in his backpack, promising to fulfil his three hundred squat quota as prescribed by his fitness trainer. But instead of heading to his personal in-house gym (complete with enough fitness equipment to train a football team, and featuring an amazing view of the city), Seungcheol picks out his best casual clothes, admiring his reflection in the mirror.

Several clothing changes later, with a cloud of cologne surrounding him, Seungcheol picks up the second giant cookie and drives off to Jihoon’s apartment in his flashy red Ferrari.

* * *

 

“Seungcheol-sunbaenim!” Soonyoung practically bows down to his feet when he sees the star swimmer at his door. “You should’ve told me that you were coming over!” He lets out a shaky laugh, embarrassed at the messy state of his apartment, strewn all over with empty food packets.

“Sorry.” Seungcheol smiles. “I just wanted to drop something off.” He holds out the cookie package, adorned with a big red bow that he’d tied himself with the help of several YouTube tutorials.  “This is for Jihoon. Is he home?”

“Hoonie’s not here, though. He went back home _home_ , because his mum’s cousin’s sister’s daughter is getting married. He’s only coming back next week.” Soonyoung says distractedly, accepting Seungcheol’s package, a whiff of chocolate hitting his nostrils.

“Oh.” The swimmer’s expression visibly drops at the revelation.

“Is this a giant cookie?” Soonyoung starts hyperventilating, inspecting Seungcheol’s package closely.

“Yeah, I made it myself.” Seungcheol puffs his chest out a little, proud of himself. “Channie helped me.”

“Is this chocolate chip?” Soonyoung sniffs the package, his nose twitching like a hamster’s. “I love chocolate chip.”

Seungcheol grins cordially. He doesn’t know what else to say to Soonyoung; and the diver’s looking at the cookie like he’s ready to eat it, packaging and all. “So… you’ll keep it safe for Jihoon, right?”

“Okay. I’ll tell Hoonie that you dropped by.”

“Do you think the cookie will last until he comes back?” Seungcheol’s worried; he really wants Jihoon to know that he went out of his way to bake a giant cookie for him.

Soonyoung shrugs, he doesn’t know either. “Can I eat it before it goes bad?”

Seungcheol hesitates, but he wouldn’t want all his hard work to go to waste. “I guess so.”

“But I’ll keep some for Hoonie too, don’t worry! I know he’ll love it.” Soonyoung grins widely. “I’ll take a picture for him.”

“Thanks, Soonyoung.” The star swimmer leaves with a sad smile. “See you around.”

“’Bye, Seungcheol-sunbaenim!” The diver shuts the door with his butt, carefully holding the cookie package so that he doesn’t drop it. He takes out his phone and snaps a quick photo like he promised, then sniffs the package again. The strong scent of baked dough and chocolate greets him, and he shivers with excitement: happy, yet a bit jealous at Jihoon – when will anyone send him a giant cookie too?

Soonyoung carries the cookie over to the kitchen counter and stares at it for two whole minutes, before he gives in to his wants. He glances furtively around the apartment, just in case a blanketed Jihoon is watching him, but of course, he’s alone.

“One tiny piece won’t hurt…”

* * *

Next week finally arrives, and Seungcheol turns up an hour early for his solo training session. He’d timed it perfectly so that the whole diving team is still there, practicing their routines for the World Championships. Everyone in the arena freezes in their position when they see Seungcheol enter – his imposing presence has that effect on most people that makes them turn their heads and drop whatever they’re doing to appreciate his existence. It’s like someone pressed pause, making time in the arena stop. Someone’s in mid-dive, but the diver glances over to Seungcheol, his lips forming an amazed O shape as he plummets into the pool with a huge splash. No one else moves, save for Jihoon and Coach Hong, the national diving coach, in deep discussion by the pool. Jihoon has his back towards Seungcheol, listening intently to his coach, oblivious to their surroundings.

Only when Seungcheol smiles and lifts a hand to acknowledge everyone, everything returns to normal.

Seungcheol finds it weird when everyone treats him like a celebrity. He shakes his head and locks his gaze onto Jihoon’s smooth back, admiring the way his muscles ripple when he stretches oh so flexibly.

Seungcheol quickly checks Jihoon’s left hand for a ring, just in case – he’d spent a couple of sleepless nights in his lonely king bed, wondering if it had been Jihoon’s own wedding, instead of that obscure, distant relative that Soonyoung had mentioned, which sounded fishy.

But of course Jihoon wouldn’t wear jewellery in the pool; so his hand is bare. Maybe Seungcheol’s imagination is working overtime – news like that would be worthy of mention in the media: _Rookie Diver – Korea’s Own Cherry Bomb - Gets Married!_

Seungcheol takes a deep breath and approaches Jihoon purposefully, his heart beating twice for each step. He feels more nervous talking to Jihoon than standing on the starting block at the Olympics; but he’s already got his words planned out. Coach Hong notices Seungcheol, and greets him before he politely excuses himself, giving the pair some space.

“Hi, Jihoon.” Seungcheol grins.

Jihoon barely spares Seungcheol a glance; looking up at the 10 metres platform instead, trying to visualise his routine with the tips he’d been discussing with Coach Hong. Just to be polite, he gives Seungcheol the tiniest nod. “Hello.”  

“Did you like my cookie?”

“What cookie?” Jihoon sounds genuinely confused, if not irritated by Seungcheol’s question. Is that supposed to be some trendy sexual slang that Jihoon doesn’t know about? 

Right then, Soonyoung, who’s on top of the 5 metres diving platform, drops into the pool with a mighty splash, diverting everyone’s attention. The orange haired diver hurriedly swims to the side of the pool where Seungcheol and Jihoon are standing, and pulls himself out of the pool, slipping on the tiles to greet the pair.

“Hello, Seungcheol-sunbaenim! How are you? Did you break any records lately?” Soonyoung casually flings an arm around Seungcheol’s shoulders; water dripping off the edges of his orange hair onto Seungcheol’s designer shirt. He turns to Jihoon with a forced smile. “Hoonie, excuse me, I need to talk to our honoured senior for just a sec, okay?”

Soonyoung immediately drags Seungcheol a distance away from Jihoon, who pointedly ignores them, pretending like he doesn’t know Soonyoung. Seungcheol merely follows, confused by Soonyoung’s sudden actions.

“I’m sorry I ate the cookie that you wanted to give to Hoonie!” Soonyoung suddenly bows deeply in apology, taking Seungcheol by surprise. “It was so delicious, I thought that I would taste it a bit because I have a sweet tooth, but somehow it all disappeared, I’m sorry...” The diver’s practically on his knees begging for forgiveness dramatically, and everyone is turning to look at them curiously.

Seungcheol quickly pulls Soonyoung back up to his feet, trying to avoid scrutiny - he could feel Jihoon’s eyes boring into his back like lasers. “I guess it’s okay, Soonyoung. It’s been a week anyway, I don’t think the cookie would’ve lasted that long.”

“Really?” Soonyoung’s already on the verge of tears, which makes Seungcheol worry. “Is it really okay?”

“Can’t do anything much about it, I guess. What’s done is done. It’s no big deal.” Seungcheol shrugs casually, in case Soonyoung actually cries. Still, he’s a bit disappointed that Jihoon didn’t get to enjoy the cookie he (and Chan) had made.

“But I feel really bad that Hoonie didn’t get to taste it too.” Soonyoung’s pouting, his eyes glassy – any second now, he’s going to release dramatic waterworks, and Seungcheol doesn’t need that kind of attention.

Seungcheol reaches out to pat the diver’s shoulder in reassurance. “It’s fine, Soonyoung. Really.”

“Will you make another one?” Soonyoung’s eyes are shining; and Seungcheol’s not sure whether Soonyoung is really going to cry out of guilt, or those are his puppy-dog eyes begging for more giant cookies….

“I’m not sure about that; my schedule’s kind of packed…” Seungcheol scratches his head, trying to let Soonyoung down gently with a placating tone and an innocent expression.

“Don’t worry about it, Seungcheol-sunbaenim.” Soonyoung says, grinning widely – he should definitely win some kind of Best Actor award, based from his quick change in expressions. One minute he’s almost crying, then in a split second, his smile is brighter than the sun! “Anyway, do you wanna grab lunch together later so I can make it up to you? Hoonie will be there too.”

Seungcheol’s heart leapt at the chance. He’d clear his afternoon schedule, all for Jihoon - that Very Important Meeting with the national swim association, which Coach Yoon and Chan had reminded him about a million times in the past week; can wait another day. “Don’t mind if Channie tags along.”

“Eh, that’s okay. He was like my baby brother back in high school.” Soonyoung beams. “And the more the merrier!”

“I’ll go start training now so that you guys don’t need to wait for me later.” Seungcheol strips his shirt off right there in front of everyone (he’s confident of his body, anyway) and hurries over to the main swimming pool to begin his training, even though Chan’s not there yet to help him monitor his progress.

When Seungcheol’s young assistant finally arrives about five minutes later, he’s shocked to find his boss already swimming as fast as a dolphin, like he’s competing against Wen Junhui at the summer Olympics.

(Everyone knows those two are the best swimmers in the world right now, with a friendly rivalry that’s always wrongfully antagonized by the media, creating non-existent drama.)

Soonyoung’s sitting by the side of the pool in a T-shirt and shorts, fresh after his post-practice shower. His feet are dangling in the water, with a timer in his hand, recording Seungcheol’s laps. Meanwhile, over on the other side of the arena, Jihoon is standing atop the 10m platform, preparing for a dive.

Chan checks his watch again, blood rushing to his brain. He’s actually on time – he’d set it to be five minutes earlier than the actual time. The rest of the diving team has dispersed, while Jihoon’s doing his extra practice drills. Everything seems to be normal, except for the way his boss is channeling his inner Aquaman in the swimming pool.

“Soonyoung-hyung, what’s going on?” Chan hurries over to the orange-haired diver, panicking. He hates it when he loses control of things, because of the damage control he’d have to do. Besides, what if his boss tells him off for being late? And the progress chart he’d meticulously built since the national swim meet, all ruined because he missed the start of today’s training session.

“Seungcheol-sunbaenim wanted to start his training early.” Soonyoung says, as Seungcheol does another lap, rebounding off the end of the pool.

Chan pulls out his clipboard – the first page has notes for every training session, all the times taken for Seungcheol to swim a full lap carefully recorded. Maybe he could salvage Seungcheol’s progress chart; he could ask Soonyoung. “How many laps has he done?”

“I’m not sure…maybe ten. Or twenty.” Soonyoung taps his chin, accidentally pressing the timer, which resets itself. “Oh. Oops.”

Chan sighs internally – just a little change in plans, and everything’s turned to chaos. He’d never get the proper data for today’s session, and his final report to Coach Yoon (who never requested such a thing) would be skewed. He casts his clipboard aside; and stands next to Soonyoung, watching his boss, with his arms folded across his chest.

At least, Seungcheol’s training, and that’s what matters the most.

“Will you join us for lunch later?” Soonyoung asks out of the blue, turning to grin at Chan, who’s surprised by the invitation.

Chan deliberates the idea. He’s still half mad at Soonyoung, but the promise of food sounds good. Besides, it’d be nice to catch up with him, reminiscing about their days back in high school… But of course, he needs to schedule his life around Seungcheol’s, just in case his boss needs him in some wacky, poorly planned idea in his pursuit for Jihoon’s heart. “I need to ask Mr Seungcheol first.”

Soonyoung laughs like Chan had just made a joke, almost falling into the pool. “He’s coming along with us! You, me, Seungcheol-sunbaenim and Hoonie.” The orange headed diver beckons Chan closer, dropping his voice into a whisper. “To be honest, between you and me… I think Seungcheol-sunbaenim wants to be friends with Hoonie.”

Chan lets out a long-suffering sigh, remembering the things Seungcheol had asked him to do before - preparing all those gifts for Jihoon: the roses, the Milkis, the chicken lunch and the giant cookie – and he’s fairly confident there’s more to come, because once Seungcheol sets a goal, he’d stop at nothing to attain it, in this case, winning Jihoon’s heart. “Oh, you have absolutely no idea.”

Over the other side of the arena, at the highest point of the diving platforms, Jihoon elegantly (well, as elegant as one could be in just a speedo, but Jihoon pulls it off in the best way) poises into his starting position, his face stoic. He drops off the platform, expertly spinning in the air.

And if he has some kind of Jihoon-dive radar, Seungcheol stops mid swim, even removing his goggles; to appreciate Jihoon’s graceful somersaults before he enters the swimming pool below with minimal splash – almost like he’d slipped into some underwater dimension with barely a trace. Seungcheol smiles to himself, amazed at that kind of display - Jihoon definitely shows promise in diving; he could be the next big name in Korean aquatic sports.

If Jihoon is working hard enough, then Seungcheol would work harder.

(Maybe Jihoon would fall for Seungcheol’s diligent work ethic? Ha.)

Seungcheol pulls his goggles over his eyes and quickly resumes his own training, loving the burn in his arms that tells him he’s pushing himself to his limits. But Seungcheol’s the only one who can determine his own limits, and he knows that he can do much, much better. His mind is focused on one thing: with every stroke, he chants Jihoon’s name as a motivational mantra. The prospect of having lunch with Jihoon (and Soonyoung) later excites him even more; so he funnels his all energy into his swimming, knowing that he deserves a good meal and excellent company later.

“Hey, Channie, I’m kinda hungry.” Soonyoung rubs his grumbling stomach. “Wanna go now?”

“What about Mr Seungcheol and Mr Jihoon, hyung?”  

Soonyoung laughs. “They can go together. C’mon.” He gets to his feet.  

“I’ve got to wait for Mr Seungcheol though.” Chan hesitates, trying to stall. As an assistant, he’s responsible to help Seungcheol; and he still feels guilty that he came late, even though he had been on time. He’s not going to abandon Seungcheol on his own – there’s no way the swimmer can do anything without Chan.

“Chill, Channie. He won’t be mad.”

Chan looks at his boss, who’s still swimming his drill laps in the pool. Seungcheol has never been angry at him - that’s how much of a good boss he is. But he still feels bad for not doing his job properly…yet it’d be fun to hang out with Soonyoung, who’d been his favourite senior in high school. “If he is, it’s on you.”

Soonyoung laughs, thinking that Chan’s joking; and he pulls the boy to his feet. Without looking back and thinking twice, the two of them leave the aquatic arena in search for food.

* * *

Seungcheol finally surfaces from the water to find himself alone in the arena, save for the red-headed diver scowling at the wall, sitting by Seungcheol’s bag, facing the pool.

Chan and Soonyoung are suspiciously missing – odd, especially for Chan, because he’d usually be monitoring Seungcheol’s progress thoroughly to report to Coach Yoon. There’s no one else around to ask, so Seungcheol heads straight towards Jihoon with a spring in his step. His pulls off his swimming cap and goggles to make himself somewhat presentable in front of his crush, putting on his best smile.

“Hi, Jihoon.” Seungcheol says shyly, trying to grab Jihoon’s attention. Jihoon’s wearing comfortable street clothes - an oversized t-shirt, joggers and slippers. Seungcheol had never seen Jihoon in more than a speedo, and finds it weird at first - he’d gotten used to the expanse of Jihoon’s milky white skin - but decides that Jihoon would look absolutely adorable wearing anything (or nothing). His hair is tousled adorably, the tips of his dyed red hair still damp from his post-practice shower.

“Soonyoung says that you’ll take me to him.” Jihoon mutters, staring at the floor.

“I thought he said we’re all going to lunch together? Seungcheol strips his full body swimsuit down to his waist, and jihoon quickly averts his gaze, cursing under his breath. Just because Seungcheol’s confident with his body doesn’t mean that he needs to flaunt it everywhere, especially not in front of Jihoon!

Jihoon shrugs – he really has no idea what Soonyoung is up to; the inner workings of Soonyoung’s brain forever a mystery to him. Jihoon is now hangry (hungry + angry), irritated by Soonyoung’s dumb plan to have lunch with Choi Seungcheol, of all people. It’s Wednesday, which means mixed noodles for lunch and dinner at home, not fancy meals at fancy restaurants with Choi freaking Seungcheol!

Soonyoung had taken Jihoon’s phone, leaving a handwritten note behind – his handwriting so messy that it was almost illegible. The note is now crumpled up in his fist, as he tries not to steam with anger over his (best) friend and Choi Seungcheol.

_Gone 4 lunch with Channie. Cheol-sunbaenim will take u to eat lunch with us later! + your phone is with me ^^_

Jihoon should have known better than to leave his precious smartphone lying around, for Soonyoung to claim it as an asset so he’d agree to lunch with Choi freaking Seungcheol. In fact, if Jihoon doesn’t need his phone so badly (because he needs to water his plants in the new farming game he’d downloaded recently) he’d let Soonyoung hold on to it until he gets back to their shared apartment later, where he can tear Soonyoung to bits for his silly stunt.

But he can’t let his virtual plants die, plus, he’s hungry, too. He’d figured that Seungcheol would be his best lead to where Soonyoung is, who’d left without a trace, apart from the vague note. He chances a peek at Seungcheol’s stupid handsome face, trying to gauge the swimmer’s expression, which he interprets as nothing less than dopey.

And seeing Seungcheol’s enthusiastic smile makes Jihoon feel nauseous and nervous, yet somehow comforting at the same time. It’s a new kind of feeling that Jihoon’s never had the chance to explore before – all he knows that he feels all kinds of weird around Choi Seungcheol. To him, it means nothing good, especially this close to the World Championships, and he can’t afford any distractions.

“I’ll go take a shower first. Sorry to keep you waiting.” Seungcheol grabs his things and heads to the locker room, taking the quickest shower of his life. He silently thanks Soonyoung (who knew he’d be a great wingman, without Seungcheol ever needing to ask for his help) as he dresses, then dries his hair as best as he can, letting his bangs flop over his forehead. He checks his reflection in the mirror, making sure he looks good enough, before he heads out to meet Jihoon.  

Thankfully, Jihoon’s still waiting for Seungcheol at the same bench, reluctantly standing up when he emerges feeling all fresh from his post-swim shower.

“May I take your bag?” Seungcheol offers, but the diver holds the strap tightly and briskly walks ahead. Seungcheol easily catches up with him, carrying his own bag, and they silently leave the arena together, heading outside, where Seungcheol’s red Ferrari is proudly parked right by the entrance, in the yellow no-parking zone. The security guard on post even gives an exaggerated military salute towards Seungcheol when they leave the compound, to which Seungcheol returns a smile.

 _Of course_ , Jihoon thinks, trying not to roll his eyes. _Favouritism._ Everyone else has to park their cars further away in the inconveniently placed carpark just a few blocks away; but this guy parks right in the yellow box and no one blinks an eye. His heart skips a beat, though – this is Choi Seungcheol’s legendary red Ferrari, one of the exclusive few available in the world, right in front of his eyes. It’s a sleek, gorgeous machine, but Jihoon’s suddenly conscious of himself – there’s no absolute way that he’s going to ride in Seungcheol’s Ferrari, even though a little part of his brain is berating him for it: when else is he going to sit in a luxury sportscar, one that belongs to the person that he ~~loves~~ loathes the most in the whole wide world?

Seungcheol unlocks the flashy sportscar and opens the passenger door for Jihoon; revealing the elegant leather interior, but the red-headed diver hesitates.

Jihoon’s got doubts, and he suddenly wants to skip this whole thing and hide under his blankets at home. “You go ahead. I’ll pass.”

“You don’t want to come?” Seungcheol’s expression drops visibly, his lips turning into an adorable pout, paired with pleading eyes that makes Jihoon’s heart break a little, wishing he could take back his words.

“Do you know where Soonyoung and Chan are?” Jihoon asks.

Seungcheol checks his phone, but Soonyoung never disclosed his whereabouts, so he shakes his head. “Maybe we could go somewhere else.”

Jihoon cringes at the idea of having lunch alone with someone who constantly gets on his nerves; even being around Seungcheol is making him jumpy.

For an innocent idiot, Soonyoung’s surprisingly smart; unless this is just another episode of him being capricious, which seems more likely. No fucking way that Soonyoung would know that Jihoon has the tiniest of crushes on Choi Seungcheol; trying to play Cupid to pair them up in his own misguided way, which is evidently failing. Jihoon’s never going to admit it, since all of South Korea (and parts of Japan) Loves Seungcheol, dubbing him the Nation’s Boyfriend (or something equally icky), and Jihoon desperately doesn’t want to fall into that category of infatuated individuals pining for Choi Seungcheol.  

It happened ever since that day Seungcheol had ‘rescued’ him; and waking up to Seungcheol’s stupid handsome face on a billboard advertising Milkis right outside his bedroom window every morning doesn’t really help too. Since then, Seungcheol’s been the star of his dreams every other night, mostly appearing in little clothing. The last dream had featured Seungcheol all oiled up, doing a Magic Mike routine by the pool, distracting Jihoon from a crucial diving routine.

Dammit, Choi Seungcheol.

Right then Seungcheol’s phone pings with an incoming message, and the swimmer reads it - a text from Soonyoung.

“Soonyoung just shared his location. Do you still want to come?”

Jihoon looks at the cool interior leather furnishing of the expensive car, and out here the sun is blazing hot - of course it’s a stalemate. His grumbling stomach adds its little plea, so he slides in, much to Seungcheol’s surprise, who’d expected a rejection. He stands by the passenger door, gaping; until Jihoon throws a sharp glare at him. Quickly shutting the door, Seungcheol hurries over to the driver’s side, secretly pumping his fist at his first small victory.

The drive over to the restaurant where Soonyoung and Chan are waiting is awkward; Seungcheol suddenly doesn’t know how to start a conversation with Jihoon. The only sound in the car is the radio is softly playing some song Seungcheol’s heard a million times before, and Seungcheol’s palms get sweaty as he grips the steering wheel tighter in nervousness. He would never stop to get something (or someone) he wants, but when he finally gets it, he doesn’t know what to do. He chances a peek at the red-haired diver sitting next to him, wondering what Jihoon could be thinking, but Jihoon’s nodding along to a mainstream pop song, tapping his fingers rhythmically to the beat. Clearly, he’s comfortable with the silence between them, oddly relaxed for someone who didn’t want to come.

A smile curls onto Seungcheol’s lips, finding the whole thing endearing. So Jihoon likes music…..

Seungcheol turns the volume up, and Jihoon softly sings to whatever’s playing on the radio, thinking that Seungcheol can’t hear him over the moderately loud music.

(Seungcheol can, and my goodness, Jihoon sounds like an _angel_. How much deeper can a guy fall in love?)

Seungcheol and Jihoon finally pull up to the barbecue restaurant where Soonyoung and Chan are waiting; Seungcheol parking his car (illegally) right in front of the building, much to Jihoon’s annoyance. Seungcheol’s famous red Ferrari garners a small crowd from passers-by, all of them anticipating the swimming superstar who would alight from the gorgeous sportscar. Some ladies practically swoon when they see Seungcheol alight, wearing his best smile, but tongues start wagging as Jihoon exits from the passenger seat, looking harassed by the random people – mostly Seungcheol’s screaming fangirls -surrounding them. Dispatch would have a field day, trying to dig into the nature of Seungcheol and Jihoon’s relationship – this is the first time they’re seen in public together. Not that it would mean anything - they're simply two athletes dropping by a restaurant for a hearty lunch after work. 

Seungcheol politely waits for Jihoon, unfazed by the commotion, before they shoulder their way through the crowd towards the restaurant. The host graciously leads them towards a private room at the back, where Soonyoung and Chan are well into their second course, their faces stuffed with meat. They’d been reminiscing high school days over food, waiting for Seungcheol and Jihoon to show up.

Jihoon slumps beside Soonyoung, letting out a heavy sigh. He’s still a bit overwhelmed from unnecessary attention from Seungcheol’s rabid fans outside. He doesn’t like being thrust into the spotlight, and he should’ve known that Seungcheol's car is as conspicuous as the Batmobile – anyone could recognise it from ten blocks away. Still, he quickly remembers why he’d agreed to hitch a ride in Seungcheol’s red Ferrari: he’s here to retrieve his phone from Soonyoung.

“Give me my phone.” Jihoon fixes his most lethal glare onto his (best) friend. Soonyoung quickly slides the device over, keeping his end of the deal; before he turns to Seungcheol with a bright smile.

“Sorry we left first, I was hungry!” Soonyoung says, reaching for a piece of grilled meat. “We ordered a bunch of things. Help yourself! Cola, Hoonie?”

Jihoon begrudgingly accepts the glass of cola, already focused on his phone, checking the virtual plants in his virtual game. Everything looks fine - ooh, something's up for harvest! Jihoon instantly gets immersed in the mobile game, ignoring everyone else at the table. 

“Sorry I left you there, sir.” Chan apologises quietly as Seungcheol settles into the seat next to his.

“It’s okay, Channie.”

“We should order more stuff!” Soonyoung announces, calling a waiter over for the menu. Their table is already laden with food, and the grill is fully loaded with meat, its delicious smell filling in the room.

Seungcheol only orders a glass of cider before he sends the waiter away, convincing Soonyoung that they’d ordered more than enough food for the four of them.

“Eat, Hoonie.” Soonyoung prods.

“Don’t tell me what to do.” Jihoon mutters. He casts his phone aside, and picks up a pair of chopsticks, attacking the spread with gusto.

Jihoon eats about five bowls of rice on his own, barely joining in the animated conversation Soonyoung and Chan are having. Seungcheol listens to them as he eats, even though he doesn’t know what they’re talking about; amused at Soonyoung’s odd storytelling – is he telling the truth or exaggerating? Seungcheol keeps glancing back at the disinterested redheaded diver sitting across him, wondering what Jihoon could be thinking about. The restaurant is playing some indie song Seungcheol’s never heard of, and Jihoon bobs his head to the beat as he reaches out for some meat to eat with his rice.

“Have some more meat, Jihoon.” Seungcheol moves the platter closer to the diver, who simply nods back in acknowledgement. _Food and music_ , Seungcheol notes, _the way to Jihoon’s heart_.

Meanwhile, Soonyoung picks out a lettuce leaf, and piles on some grilled meat, kimchi and pickled radish - adding ingredients to his heart’s content – before he wraps it up, holding it towards Chan with a wide grin.  

“Wrap.” He looks at Chan, ready to feed the boy even across the table.

Chan hesitates as Soonyoung leans in closer, already holding the wrap just inches away from his lips. “What’s in it?”

“Open up. It’s a surprise.” Soonyoung replies, grinning. Chan lets Soonyoung feed him, and his face brightens up as he chews the food, savouring all the flavours all blended nicely together even with randomly placed ingredients; it’s like a party in his mouth.

“That’s nice, hyung. Thank you.” Chan smiles gratefully at Soonyoung, who looks satisfied with Chan’s elated expression.

Seungcheol glances at Jihoon briefly, wondering what he’d make of this, but the diver is shovelling rice into his mouth, probably trying to block out all the mushy bromantic gestures happening right beside him courtesy of Soonyoung and Chan.

Meanwhile, Chan’s already busying himself, taking lots of grilled meat to bundle into a meat wrap, which he’s preparing for Soonyoung to return the gesture. “For you, hyung.”

“That’s a big one.” Soonyoung eyeballs the wrap, which seems to be as big as Chan’s fist. He wonders if he can take it all in one bite…

“You deserve it.” Even Seungcheol melts a little at Chan’s thoughtfulness, watching as Chan leans over the table to feed the wrap to Soonyoung, who’s already waiting with his mouth open wide.

Soonyoung chews the wrap slowly, his cheeks all puffed out with food. His eyes crinkle up, and he shimmies his shoulders with glee, appreciating the delicious taste dancing on his tongue.

“Is it good?” Chan asks, watching Soonyoung with an amused expression on his face. Soonyoung can only manage a nod, still unable to swallow the generous wrap his beloved junior had given him.

Again, Seungcheol’s gaze flicks over to Jihoon, wondering if he should make one for him, too. After all the training he’d been through earlier, he deserves a delicious lettuce wrap too, filled with lots of meat and love.

Jihoon happens to peek up from his rice bowl at that moment, making momentary eye contact with Seungcheol; and he instantly blushes, hoping that Seungcheol’s not getting any ridiculous ideas of feeding each other lettuce wraps like shameless lovebirds…

His heartbeat begins to accelerate when he spies Seungcheol reaching out for a lettuce leaf. But Seungcheol eats it directly, without adding other ingredients; much to Jihoon’s relief and disappointment.

Soonyoung keeps teasing Chan about things they’d done years ago in high school, as Jihoon tunes out once more, stewing in his own thoughts. He’s barely acquaintances with Seungcheol, while Soonyoung and Chan are clearly tight-knit, laughing at every single thing. It would just be awkward if Seungcheol did offer him a lettuce wrap, too…

Hell, sitting across Choi Seungcheol at lunchtime is awkward enough for Jihoon, and he can’t wait for it to be over.

Soonyoung finally calls for the bill and his eyes almost pop out of his head when he sees the final amount; his hand trembling, hunting for his card in the ratty old wallet he’d been using since high school.

“Thanks for the treat, buddy.” Jihoon says nonchalantly, leaning back in his seat – he’d glimpsed the bill, and he lowkey feels sorry for his (best) friend. If they’d stayed home for mixed noodles, Soonyoung wouldn’t be broke now, treating the most famous athlete in the country to a barbecue lunch. 

“I could pay for my part, if it’s okay, hyung?” Chan notices the colour draining from Soonyoung’s face as he stares at the bill. He starts digging in his backpack, but Soonyoung shakes his head, taking out his card.

“It’s on me. Don’t worry.” Seungcheol suavely hands his card over to the waiter, before anyone could stop him. The bill gets charged to Seungcheol’s exclusive black limitless credit card, its amount barely a blip to bank account. Soonyoung thanks Seungcheol endlessly; bowing too many times, short of kissing Seungcheol’s feet.

They leave as an entourage, and more patrons start to recognise them as the nation’s best swimmer, his assistant and two rookie divers from the national team. Seungcheol gets stopped for a few autographs and selfies, which he accepts graciously, being too polite to refuse; to which Jihoon rolls his eyes at. He immediately exits the place… straight into a bunch of fans waiting outside on the pavement. They cheer as he emerges, only to stop when they realise he’s not Choi Seungcheol, turning hopefully towards the restaurant doors.

Jihoon stalks towards the edge of the crowd, as Soonyoung trails after him. “Hoonie, are you jealous?”

Jihoon snorts. “Why would I be?” This is why he loathed Seungcheol - he hates how everyone worships him like he’s some kind of water god or something. Will they realise that he’s just one lucky guy who happens to be really good at swimming? _Choi Seungcheol, Famous for Swimming_ would be a catchy title for an autobiography, Jihoon thinks.

“One day we’ll be as good and as famous as Seungcheol sunbaenim okay? We gotta train harder.” Soonyoung says, looking back at the horde of fangirls, each of them clutching their phones and cheering slogans of their idol.

Jihoon knows that he and Soonyoung have potential to win a medal – hopefully gold - at the world championships in Japan soon, but he doesn’t care about being famous. “Are you coming with me to the gym later?”

A sheepish look falls over Soonyoung’s face – he’s not a fan of Jihoon’s marathon gym sessions, simply because he’s also subjected to Jihoon’s superhuman routine: weights and cardio back-to-back, with difficult stretching moves in between. “Maybe.”    

“You better. I’s important.” Jihoon says with a scary tone, that lets Soonyoung know that this is to be taken seriously. Soonyoung never sticks to the word _synchronised_ in synchronised diving whenever the both of them practice, a half second too quick or too slow in his routines with Jihoon most of the time. Even so, he somehow manages to match Jihoon perfectly during competitions, their teamwork garnering them the top place in recent competitions.

A raucous cheer nearly bursts Jihoon’s eardrums – Seungcheol had just exited the restaurant with Chan, making his fans wild just with his appearance. This time, he doesn’t stop for fanservice, striding towards Jihoon (and Soonyoung) purposefully, though his fans are clamoring towards him, all wanting a piece of him.

“I can’t watch.” Soonyoung turns away as Seungcheol gets swallowed into a crowd of his fans. Jihoon shrugs, and starts playing his virtual farm game.

“You should really have some security detail, sir.” Chan’s saying, as he and Seungcheol finally approach Jihoon and Soonyoung, who are still waiting by the road. Jihoon’s already restless, wondering why he’s wasting his time waiting for Choi Seungcheol, whom he hates with all of his heart, when he could go and work his anger off at the gym.

“Sorry I got held up back there!” Seungcheol smiles apologetically. “Thanks for inviting us out here, it was nice meal. So.. what are you guys going to do this afternoon?”

Soonyoung opens his mouth to answer, but Jihoon cuts him off, fixing a strong gaze onto Seungcheol’s nose. “We’ve got important diver things to do. Goodbye.” Jihoon says crisply, and starts to walk away, only to be stopped by Seungcheol, who grabs the diver’s wrist on impulse.

Jihoon freezes at the touch and immediately turns red (as his hair) as Seungcheol releases his grip, realising that was uncalled for, aware that his fans are watching his every move, possibly filming him, too. But there’s only one single thought in his mind, putting everything else aside: he didn’t realise how slender Jihoon’s wrist is, and he finds it endearing.

(Must protect.)

Seungcheol steps back politely, giving Jihoon some personal space, muttering a half-hearted apology. He’s quick to come up with another offer, so he could spend more time with Jihoon. “I could drive you guys, if you wanna?” Seungcheol unlocks his Ferrari, which is parked nearby. He’s not sure if he could fit all of them in his two-seater sports car – maybe Soonyoung and Chan wouldn’t mind taking the bus…

Soonyoung almost gives in and agrees - he’d heard stories about Seungcheol’s legendary Ferrari, which is one of a kind in all of Korea, and this side of the world - but Jihoon shakes his head to decline. “We’ll be fine. Soonyoung, let’s go.”

They leave before Seungcheol could say anything else; Soonyoung being dragged away by Jihoon to the nearest subway station, screaming helplessly. Chan waves toward the departing divers, then turns to his boss, cuing up Seungcheol’s schedule. “You’ve got a meeting this afternoon, sir.”

“Right.” Seungcheol absolutely despises meetings, but Coach Yoon would have his head if he didn’t turn up. Not that he cares. He’s got the beginnings of another project sprouting up in his mind, to replace the failure of the giant chocolate chip cookie. “Let’s get out of here...do you mind looking up the nearest record store?”

* * *

Hansol’s bored out of his mind. He’d thought that working in a record shop would mean playing all the music from the bands he loved, but store regulations clearly said that he needs to play the house playlist, which is full of overplayed mainstream songs that he’s sick of listening to every day.

Besides, no one ever buys CDs nowadays since music has gone digital – its accessibility increased through various streaming services, and YouTube; so there are rarely any customers. Still, he’s getting paid for standing around and doing nothing, so it’s not a total loss.

The front door opens with a chime, and in come two men - one is a tall buff guy with a face that belongs in magazines; and the other a slightly smaller, harried young man carrying a clipboard. The first guy looks familiar, but Hansol can’t put a name to the face. He stands up straighter, on alert, just in case these two guys need his help.

“Chan, help me look for a really good album.” Truthfully, Seungcheol doesn’t know what he’s looking for either; he doesn’t know what type of music Jihoon likes. Could it be pop or ballads, or alternative rock? Maybe he likes jazz or Caribbean music – there’s a lot of possibilities…

Chan grips his clipboard tighter – he’s on edge that Seungcheol is missing his Very Important Meeting with the national swim association - but he nods obediently, starting to flick through the albums on the nearest rack.

Seungcheol looks around the interior of the shop, which is decorated with outdated posters of bands from half a decade ago. Newer groups layer these old posters, baby faces of singers that Seungcheol doesn’t recognise. The last time he’d been a major fan of music was in high school, but now he can’t keep up with current trends anymore – there always seem to be a new group debuting every second, vying for success and popularity. He suddenly feels overwhelmed, diving into this new project without knowing exactly what he’s doing. He sees a bored teen standing behind the counter, and their eyes lock for about a second, and Seungcheol gives him a polite smile.  

“Hey, can I help you?” Hansol calls out from behind the counter. Maybe he’d get a bonus from his boss for excellent customer service.

“I’m looking for music.” Seungcheol says absently.

“Well I suppose you’re in the right place.” Hansol stifles a snicker, as if it wasn’t obvious enough - this place only had music. “What type of music are you looking for?”

“I’m not too sure myself.” Seungcheol admits.

Hansol’s eyes sparkle - this is his time to shine. He could recommend really obscure hip-hop music to this unsuspecting guy…

Seungcheol sees something on the rack that catches his eye. “I’ll just browse a bit first.”

“Sure. Give me a shout if you need help.” Hansol resumes his post behind the cashier counter, watching his two customers. He’s fairly sure the buff guy is famous for _something,_ but he’s not sure what…

“Ooh, Michael Jackson.” Chan exclaims, pulling out a CD from the stacks. “All his best hits!” The boy’s eyes are practically shining as he reads the track list.

“Get that for yourself, Channie.” Seungcheol says, then continues browsing through a pile of internation pop CDs. Would Jihoon appreciate Celine Dion? Or Michael Buble’s Christmas collection, even though it’s almost summer? Nothing seems right, so he continues sifting through the records, appreciating some of the artfully designed album covers.

Hansol simply observes as Chan starts fanboying over the shop’s extensive collection of Michael Jackson albums, while Seungcheol is trying to compare between the Spice Girls and Twice. _These guys are kinda hopeless_ , Hansol thinks. _There’s better music than the mainstream ones..._

“Look at this, Channie.” Seungcheol pulls up a large cardboard sleeve, and a large round record tumbles out of it, but the swimmer manages to catch it before it falls to the floor. “Sorry!” Seungcheol calls out, gingerly holding it, as he examines the grooves on the vinyl.

“You’ll need a vinyl record player for that.” Hansol says - he had a mini heart attack when Seungcheol almost dropped the record, which is a rare collector’s item.

“It’s bigger than your face.” Seungcheol chuckles, putting the record up against his assistant’s face.

Hansol shakes his head and decides to arrange the CDs in the hip-hop section in alphabetical order to appear busy. These two guys probably don’t know what they’re doing; and they spend about half an hour scouring the whole store for whatever music they needed.

“Hi, can you help us?” Seungcheol finally gives in and approaches Hansol for help.

“Sure, what’s up?” Hansol looks up from his work. A list of his favourite indie artists is already lined up in his head, ready to be recommended to his customer.

“What kind of music would you give to someone else but you don’t know what they like?”

Hansol blinks. “Is this someone else special?” 

Seungcheol blushes, as Chan fakes a cough knowingly. “Kinda.”

“You should make a mixtape.” Hansol suggests. “Like, you could make a playlist of your favourite songs, or songs that remind you of them or something.”

“Can I put that into a CD?” Seungcheol asks.

“Yeah, sure, why not?” Hansol shrugs. “It’s pretty simple. Anyone can do it, as long you have a computer.” He’d made a few of his own, of course - mostly of self-composed rap tracks that the cool Chinese b-boy living in his apartment building would hopefully like. In fact, he’d just slipped another one into the guy’s mailbox that morning, which is why he was quick to suggest the mixtape idea to Seungcheol.

Seungcheol nods fervently in understanding. “So I can make a mixtape of a few songs, burn it into a CD and give it to Ji – that special someone?”

Hansol just nods. “There you go.” It seems like there’ll be no sales commission for him today, but at least he’d helped a guy with the intricate ways of love, and he hopes they’ll be happy.

“Alright thank you so much!” Seungcheol smiles at Hansol, then bolts for the door, calling out for his assistant. “C’mon Channie, we’ve got a mission.”

Meanwhile, Chan has barely budged from the Michael Jackson section. “Can I get one of these, please?” He asks in a tiny voice, holding up a CD. He could only afford one, feeling sad that he can’t buy anything else.

“We can get all of them, if you wanna! It’s on me.” Seungcheol whips out his exclusive black credit card from his leather wallet, handing it over to Hansol. “Charge it to whatever Channie wants to buy. And no, don’t you dare get the cheapest item, Channie.” Seungcheol starts riffling through the albums for rare versions, and they end up buying the entire discography, which surprises Hansol - he’s probably going to get a hefty bonus for clearing out the whole Michael Jackson section in the shop.

“Thank you for your patronage.” Hansol says, as hands Seungcheol’s shiny black credit card back to him.  

Seungcheol’s all smiles, feeling benevolent. He likes seeing people happy, soaking in Chan’s positive energy as he gabs on about Michael Jackson’s best songs. Seungcheol hopes to achieve the same thing with Jihoon soon, with the mixtape thing Hansol had suggested to him.

“Are you famous?” Hansol asks Seungcheol the question that had been playing on his mind ever since Seungcheol had stepped into the shop.

“Maybe.” Seungcheol replies with a mischievous grin.

Hansol nods, quickly packing up Seungcheol’s generous purchase for Chan, asking no more questions.

Chan’s tearing up when they exit the record store, grateful for such an amazing boss (who’s gotten a bit more generous now that he’s in lurrrrrrve with a certain red-headed diver). He’s extra careful with his impressive collection of Michael Jackson CDs, packed neatly in a box.

“Sir, thank you for all of this.” Chan manages, overcome with giddiness. He’s pretty sure that Seungcheol’s missing out on some important schedule right now, but he can’t bother with that at the moment, because he’s holding a box of precious art that he’s going to treasure forever.

“No problem, Channie. You’ve helped me a lot. It’s the least I can do for you.” Seungcheol ignites the engine of his car, which emits a powerful vroom.

Chan looks at all the CDS they’d bought – some of them rare versions - then slowly turns to Seungcheol, with tears of happiness brimming in his eyes. “Sir, I’ve only realised something.”

“What is it?”

“I don’t have a CD player to play all of these….”

* * *

That night, Seungcheol steps into his home office, feeling refreshed after a long, thoughtful shower. Stretching languidly on the cool leather chair, he powers his computer on. As the monitor buffers through the loading screens, Seungcheol flicks his gaze towards the framed picture of Jihoon sitting next to his computer, wondering what the diver could possibly be doing at that exact moment. He wants to spend more time with Jihoon, thinking that he’s slowly working on cracking Jihoon’s apparent ice-prince exterior. From petty arguments to having lunch together (with two other friends tagging along, and that Jihoon didn’t even look at him throughout the meal), Seungcheol thinks that he’s making good progress on trying to get closer to Jihoon. He’s determined to make this next step work – hopefully he’d find the best songs for Jihoon to listen to in his free time.

He’d convinced Chan to take two days off, letting his assistant enjoy a free weekend to listen to Michael Jackson’s entire discography. Chan had agreed docilely, after a quick trip to the computer store to get him an external CD player to hook up to his laptop, which Seungcheol had generously sponsored, just so Chan could play his new CDs.  He’d also gotten a stack of blank CDs for himself so he could start making mixtapes for Jihoon over the weekend, dreaming of ways to charm Jihoon in between.

Seungcheol had acquired some information from Soonyoung that Jihoon would be at the aquatic arena tomorrow for individual practice; and that’s where he’s planning to be tomorrow, instead of hitting the gym as per usual. He’ll watch Jihoon practice, then congratulate him over his hard work - maybe try to chat him up, take him out for lunch or something; the possible beginning of the best love story the universe has ever seen…

Seungcheol sighs happily, already imagining a happy ending, like the ones romanticised in Those Romantic Movies. He’s putting his whole career on the line just to follow his heart for once, slacking off in all aspects, but he tells himself that he’ll make it up when he finishes his newest project to woo Jihoon; following through with the suggestion put forward by the assistant at the record store.

He’s going to create a mixtape filled with love songs for Jihoon.

Jihoon would love it, and he’ll also love Seungcheol for that. They could talk about music when they go out for dates; and the thought of it makes Seungcheol’s heart flutter as a happy smile crosses his face.

Seungcheol stares at the generic desktop wallpaper for a minute – he has no idea where to start. There are so many songs in the world; what would suit Jihoon’s music taste? From what Seungcheol had observed, it seemed like Jihoon would enjoy any kind of music, but surely there would be certain songs that would strike his heartstrings.  Would he like slower songs, or energetic songs? Or songs that makes him smile, or songs that would make him cry?

Seungcheol scrolls through his personal music library, randomly selecting a couple of tracks that he personally likes – soulful ballads with the saddest lyrics, which wouldn’t be right for a mixtape he’s planning to send to the person he likes a lot.

Songs usually had meaningful messages in the lyrics. That’s what he’s been trying to do: send a subtle (but not too subtle) message to Jihoon how he really feels. Maybe he could do that through this mixtape, and pick out songs that has lyrics that speak his mind, so that Jihoon might take a hint…

It seems like a good start, so he opens his web browser and begins his search for songs for Jihoon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> will cheol's plan work this time lol


	6. really bad boy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter title from: [ red velvet's rbb (really bad boy)](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IWJUPY-2EIM) bc cheol is acting like a really bad boy (somewhat) lmao
> 
> i love writing this fic it's so **DUMB** HAHA

It’s the weekend. Jihoon’s at the aquatic arena, trying to squeeze in a few more hours of individual practice. There’s no one around, and he has the place to himself, just the way he likes it. It’s a bit tiring, climbing all the way up to the top of the platform, then executing his dive routines as perfect as possible; rinse and repeat. He’s getting a bit of a workout from this, and it’s an exceptionally chilly morning for late spring, so he feels a tad bit cold.

Just a few more dives, then he’ll soak in the hot tub for a while to loosen his muscles and warm himself up, then he’ll go for lunch alone somewhere. Preferably a meat-based meal, with lots of rice. Soonyoung would probably whine if he finds out that Jihoon’s planning to have a grand meal alone; but Jihoon prefers his own company, rather than waste his energy handling his childish diving partner.

This is Jihoon’s time to shine, so all thoughts of Soonyoung, begone.

Jihoon likes the view from the ten metres platform - an aerial view of the whole arena, which is empty right now. The Olympic-sized swimming pool is far ahead, with its starting blocks and bright lane barricades, and for a brief second he remembers Seungcheol training the other day, slicing through the water a such incredible speed. There was no doubt that Seungcheol’s one of the best swimmers - Jihoon himself can’t even compare - but he’s never really paid attention to Seungcheol when he swims. Why would he, when everyone in any water-based competition could swim, anyway? Divers could swim too, and so could the ladies who did synchronised swimming, with their dramatic water-proof makeup, and intricate underwater choreographies. The guys on the water polo team obviously could, and the middle-aged aunties who occasionally came in for water jazz every other week could probably race Seungcheol, too! Jihoon finds the notion of swimming for speed a bit weird, to him, it’s a skill no one really needs, unless you’re trying to swim for your life escaping a shark or something.

Anyway, screw Seungcheol. Again, this is Jihoon’s time to shine, so all thoughts of Seungcheol, begone.

Jihoon takes a deep breath and gets into his starting position, his arms held up high over his head.

Last dive for the day. It’s got to be perfect; otherwise, he doesn’t deserve that soak in the hot tub.

A quick run in his mind - he visualises the moves, the somersaults he’s about to execute. Then he’s off, gliding in the air, twisting his body into the movements he’d carefully practiced, which are already innate in his muscles. The whoosh of air against his skin boosts his adrenaline, and the chilly waters of the pool greet him like an old friend, comforting him after a dive well done.

Jihoon swims to the surface quickly, and a smile adorns his face. He knows that he’s ready for the World Championships. Just two more weeks, and he’ll be a world champion in diving. He could feel it in his bones – that singular moment of pride that all this training is leading up to: the coveted glittering gold medal, and with it the unofficial title of world champion, for his bragging rights, and for news articles to refer him to. Imagine the headlines: _Korea’s Cherry Bomb – World Champion!_

(Jihoon’s not overly fond of the cherry bomb nickname MC Boo Seungkwan had christened him at Nationals. Maybe he’ll dye his hair a different colour, but RIP scalp.)

The individual ten metres platform dive is his favourite event, and the one that he holds the most hope onto. For the five metres synchronised diving event, in which he’s paired up with Soonyoung… he’ll aim for a bronze instead.

Now, it’s time for a relaxing dip in the hot tub he so craved for. Hauling himself off the side of the pool, Jihoon grabs his precious shammy nearby and wipes his face. He’s going to have to wash his shammy soon, because it’s saturated with chlorine water.

The hot tub is near the open showers at the side of the arena. It’s already powered on, steaming and bubbling, inviting Jihoon over for a well-deserved rest. As Jihoon walks over, he can see that someone is already in it. Weird, since he thinks he’d been alone, training all morning.

He’s sure that it’s a person and not a ghost sitting there; there’s definitely someone.

And that someone is none other than Choi fucking Seungcheol.

National star swimmer, Milkis endorser, life ruiner. Sitting in the hot tub like he owns it, without a care in the world.

Jihoon’s already turning red with anger, seeing Seungcheol lounging around in the tub with his eyes shut. He quickly pinches his arm, just in case he’s dreaming, but he’s not, because his arm is now smarting with pain.

Seungcheol’s rich enough to have his own hot tub in his own home, so why does he have to come all the way over to the aquatic arena? Jihoon can’t even afford hot water in his dinky apartment (thanks to Soonyoung, who uses it all up selfishly) so this was supposed to be his saving grace, an escape for all the cold showers he had for the past few years.

Jihoon wouldn’t mind sharing the hot tub with other people (he does it regularly with other divers at competitions between dives, to warm his body up), but not with Choi Seungcheol.

Nope.

Not ever.

Please.

Jihoon lets out a low growl, imagining his hands around Seungcheol’s neck, strangling him quite kinkily, rather than violently, to eliminate Seungcheol from his life. (Even Jihoon’s imagination is betraying him. Besides, he can’t afford to serve jail time, not with his career about to peak.) He freezes when Seungcheol peels an eye open, looking over at him. Jihoon’s wringing his shammy furiously – exactly how he’d imagined choking Seungcheol - that water is dripping all over the tiled floor.

“Are you gonna get in here?” Seungcheol drawls lazily, glancing over at Jihoon.

~~Murderous~~ ~~kinky~~ distracting thoughts aside, Jihoon grips his shammy tighter. He wants it, the wisps of steam from the tub teasing him. He’s cold from the pool, and the hot tub would warm him up; and he needs it after hours of gruelling training - his tired muscles are screaming for it. His only consolation is that the tub is big enough so they don’t have to sit close to each other.

So Jihoon relents, and climbs into the tub silently, aware that Seungcheol is watching his every move. He settles as far away from Seungcheol as he can, enjoying the warmth of the water shooting out from the jets of the tub. Jihoon tries to relax, but he can’t, sneaking a glance to a shirtless Seungcheol sitting across him, who’s leaning back against the sides of the hot tub, closing his eyes once more.

This should be fine. He’d done this before, sharing hot tubs with other people. Just not with Choi Seungcheol.

Jihoon wrings his shammy nervously, which he’d brought into the tub with him. Why is he suddenly nervous? It’s not like he’s sharing with the president or the queen of England or anyone remotely important; but his heart is beating erratically (not erotically), and he can’t calm himself down. There’s that weird feeling again – the one that makes him nauseous and nervous, yet safe at the same time; and he tries to ignore it, convincing himself that’s exactly how he feels when he’s standing atop the diving platform in competitions.

(It’s not.)

Jihoon leans so far back, that his whole body is submerged underwater, up to his neck to hide his blush. No one says anything; only the hum of the jets of the tub fill in the air. Jihoon sneaks a peek at Seungcheol, who looks at ease with the world. Even with the distance between them, Jihoon could appreciate Seungcheol’s long eyelashes, which fan out over the top of his cheeks. The alluring shape of his full lips, looking so soft and utterly desirable, leaving nothing to Jihoon’s imagination  –

(Two bros, chillin’ in a hot tub, five feet apart ‘cause they’re not gay.)

“Oh, hang on, I’m a bit uncomfortable.” Seungcheol reaches underwater, fumbles around for a while, then he chucks his swim bottoms out of the tub, where it lands with a squelch on the tiled floor.

Seungcheol looks at Jihoon, and Jihoon looks back at Seungcheol.  

Then realisation hits Jihoon hard, as a deep red blush blooms onto his face – Choi Seungcheol is fully naked, sitting across him in the bloody hot tub.

Fucker.

A naughty smile spreads across the swimmer’s stupidly handsome face, which makes Jihoon blush even more profusely. Jihoon can glimpse the outline of Seungcheol's muscular body, partially distorted by the refraction of water and the bubbles from the jets of the hot tub - but it’s unmistakable; it’s all skin. Not a single thread of cloth is covering the swimmer’s dignity right now. Seungcheol’s private parts aren’t so private anymore - Jihoon could just dive underwater and look at them; not that he wants to. He’s suddenly reminded of the time Seungcheol tried to ‘rescue’ him, wearing nothing but incredibly tight underwear...

It’s unfair, because Seungcheol knows what he’s doing...and what’s with him and stripping in front of Jihoon?

Jihoon shuts his eyes tightly, trying to distract himself with thoughts of puppies and kittens and all things innocent; thinking about things that don’t start with a _p_ and ends with _enis_ , especially the one that belongs to Choi Seungcheol.

(Why should he focus on Seungcheol’s dick? Jihoon’s got his own dick, but he’s never been this flustered thinking about dicks.)

Five tense minutes pass by slowly, and Jihoon feels something brush against his thigh. He immediately stands up, thinking that Seungcheol’s making a move, even though Seungcheol hasn’t even moved an inch from his spot.

Still, he can’t take it anymore – shouldn’t this be some form of sexual harassment? There should be a law against Choi Seungcheol skinny dipping in public hot tubs, and he should be flogged for it! That thought leads to other thoughts – regarding Seungcheol’s ass, dubbed as Korea’s ass in certain circles – and suddenly Jihoon’s speedo feels too tight.

“I gotta go.” The red headed diver practically leaps out of the tub, sending droplets of water everywhere; conscious that he has a raging boner of his own. There’s no way he could be in close proximity of a stark naked Seungcheol without little Jihoon saying hello, his tiny speedo already tenting in the crotch area.

“You sure you don’t wanna stay?” Seungcheol asks, in a husky voice.

Jihoon’s already halfway to the locker room, covering his crotch with his hands; nearly tripping over Seungcheol’s pants that are lying on the floor. 

“You stay there any longer; your balls are gonna shrink!” The diver shouts back shrilly; his face and neck and ears burning red, probably as red as his dyed hair. Oh, he’s warm, alright, thanks to Choi Seungcheol and not the hot tub!

“Wait!” Seungcheol calls out, but Jihoon’s already gone. The swimmer lifts the little towel Jihoon had left in the hot tub.

“...you left your shammy.”

* * *

Seungcheol hasn’t seen Jihoon in the past few days, since that episode in the hot tub.

That’s because Chan has been scheduling gym sessions right before his training - as per Coach Yoon’s recommendation – and his gym instructor has been relentless, holding him back in the gym if he doesn’t finish his daily five hundred jumping jacks. Seungcheol would then arrive at the aquatic arena later than usual, and by that time, Jihoon’s already gone, so Seungcheol can’t talk to him.

The only thing he could do to cure his deep-seated yearning for Jihoon is to create hundreds of mixtapes; none of which he’d given to Jihoon yet, given their conflicting schedules. At the rate he’s making them, he’s got enough to last until next year, if he gives one CD per week to Jihoon. He’d burned too many love songs on too many CDs, and there’s even more to come.

Seungcheol’s home office is cluttered with CDs – some blank, most of them already filled with songs – and Seungcheol feels like he’s not done yet. It feels like every love song ever written on the planet reminds him of Jihoon – oh, how he adores the diver with all his heart, which is bursting with love and admiration for one (1) person. If he can’t personally tell Jihoon how he feels, these songs would.

He takes off his headphones and spins around in his leather office chair, turning to look towards the dramatic night skyline of the big city. So far, he’d been selecting songs that suits his taste, which seems selfish. He should consider what kind of music Jihoon likes, but he hasn’t got a clue…

Maybe he should ask for advice from Chan or Soonyoung.

Seungcheol knows that Chan is busy with some family gathering in his hometown (he’d been on his own all day, so _lonely_ ); so he’s left with no choice but to ask Soonyoung. He unlocks his phone and fires off a quick text to the orange-haired diver, hoping that for a quick, sensible response.

While he waits for Soonyoung to reply, Seungcheol wonders if he should just buy Jihoon a premium account on Spotify or something, since this mixtape making thing is taking a little longer than he’d thought. But Seungcheol’s the kind of person who finishes what he starts and he’s going to follow through with his poorly-thought plan, even if it means sending over a thousand CDs to Jihoon.

He’d spent even more on blank CDs than food this month, which speaks volumes about his dedication. Then the thought pops up in his mind – is he supporting illegal music sharing? What if people find out and take it the wrong way, and one day he’d be emblazoned on the front page of the newspaper with a photo of him getting arrested, boxes and boxes of his personal mixtapes being seized by the cops, with the headline: _Swimming Star turned Music Pirate?_

Seungcheol clearly needs a break, because his imagination is going into hyperdrive. He needs the motivation and inspiration to continue this project. Maybe he’ll read the Jihoon-dossier for the nth time, or daydream about Jihoon and his cute little cheeks.

Instead, Seungcheol reaches for the framed photo of Jihoon sitting right by his computer. He picks it up, appreciating it, stopping himself short of kissing it.

It’s his favourite photo (the second one is of Jihoon wearing nothing but speedos) because Jihoon is smiling in it. He’s dressed in a tracksuit, standing atop the winners’ podium, and holding up a gold medal from the recent nationals event. Even his eyes are smiling, and that makes him even more adorable; Seungcheol wants to hug the life out of him.

Seungcheol takes the framed picture with him into the adjacent bedroom, and sits at the edge of his king-sized bed. Jihoon’s shammy is draped by its edge, freshly laundered and dried. He’s seen Jihoon clutching the shammy on so many occasions, it’s like his grown-up diver binkie.

When Jihoon had left his shammy in the hot tub, Seungcheol had no choice but to bring it home. He’d even hand-washed it, following a guide from the internet, taking great care, so that he wouldn’t ruin something so precious towards Jihoon.

Gently, he sets Jihoon’s picture down next to his pillow, so he could stare at it until he falls asleep later. He’s still got a long way to go in his mixtape-making project, but he still needs a full night’s sleep; so putting Jihoon’s picture there will motivate him to go to bed, rather than dozing off at his desk, as he had done for the past few nights.

Seungcheol reaches for Jihoon’s shammy and cuddles it for comfort, which sounds weird, since it clearly doesn’t belong to him. He likes the scent of the detergent he’d used on it – it smells like flower petals on a spring day, which reminds him of the warmth of the sun on his skin, drawing up happiness from within. The soft, worn fabric is comparable to his expensive, twelve-hundred count bedsheets; and he tries to imagine the comfort Jihoon feels when he holds his precious shammy.

Seungcheol knows that he should return the little towel back to its owner; and his heart makes an excited little flip at another chance to talk to Jihoon. Seungcheol knows that he should plan it right this time; turning up during Jihoon’s individual practice time was probably a bit inappropriate and stalker-y. But the aquatic arena is a public place, so there should be nothing wrong with that, right? None of the scenarios he’d dreamed out in his mind – smoothly chatting up Jihoon in the hot tub, who’d blush at his bad pick-up lines that he’d practiced in the mirror; then asking him out on a date – had happened, far from those, in fact: Jihoon had fled the arena, flustered, before Seungcheol could even think of what to say.

Still, he’ll make sure to install a hot tub in his penthouse, and invite Jihoon over next time so they can finish what they started last time...if Jihoon is even receptive to the idea.

Just then, Seungcheol’s phone buzzes with an incoming text message from Soonyoung. He’d almost forgotten he’d texted Soonyoung, but the diver’s enthusiastic replies seem very encouraging.

He sends an affirmative, thinking that Jihoon might be around….

Soonyoung’s response is instantaneous, and he practically blows up Seungcheol’s notifications with food requests.

Seungcheol smiles to himself, knowing that his secret gift of Milkis is coming in handy for Soonyoung and Jihoon. Now, time to put his plan in action -

Seeing Soonyoung’s invitation, Seungcheol grins to himself. He’s sick of his own thoughts, cooped up in his own penthouse, so meeting someone – even if it is Soonyoung, of all people – gives him something to look forward to. A nice chat with good company over a hearty supper would be the perfect conclusion to his lonesome day – all he’d done today was work out, and scour the internet for the best love songs of all time. Besides, he’s proud of himself, making moves, trying to get closer to Jihoon’s best friend; hopefully he’ll get even closer to the enigmatic diver, too.

There’d be no problem getting Jihoon’s life story from Soonyoung, who can’t keep secret. Hopefully over food, he’ll be able to pry out more facts about Jihoon from Soonyoung, and maybe get a few pointers on how to capture Jihoon’s heart…

Seungcheol quickly calls his favourite restaurant to get food delivered over to Soonyoung and Jihoon’s shared apartment, adhering closely to Soonyoung’s requested menu. He’s a bit disappointed that Jihoon’s not around that evening - oh well, another night sleeping with his shammy, then - but at least he figures that Soonyoung might just help Seungcheol with what kind of music Jihoon would like, becoming his unofficial wingman.

Once he hangs up the phone, getting an assurance from the restaurant that his order will be delivered in the next thirty minutes, Seungcheol lopes over to his walk-in wardrobe, changing out of the ratty sweatpants he’d been wearing all day. He’s not planning to impress anyone with his (questionable) flair for style, so he dresses down for the night, in a simple (but expensive) hoodie and artfully ripped jeans.

Grabbing his phone, wallet and house keys, he leaves his luxurious penthouse, ultimately deciding to take a walk to Soonyoung’s neighbourhood - his Ferrari might be too conspicuous if he decides to stay late (and wait for Jihoon to return home, not that it would be likely). He figures that it wouldn’t be too far, anyway, and the walk would be good to calm his lovesick mind.

It’s a balmy late spring night, cherry blossoms blooming from trees lining the street. The ground is littered with pink petals, almost forming a dream-like carpet; and the scent of flowers hangs thickly in the air, overpowering the usual city smog. The street lights illuminate the area like little moons, as the city skyline twinkle against the dark blue backdrop of the night sky, forming an artificial universe that comes off as pleasing to the eyes.

Some couples are leisurely walking along the streets, enjoying each other’s company, whispering sweet nothings to each other as they admire the beauty of spring blossoming around them. It’s like Seungcheol had walked straight into a picture-perfect postcard, ready to promote the uniqueness of spring in the city.

Being the loner among lovebirds, as he hurries along the walkway, Seungcheol wonders what it would be like, walking down the street, hand in hand with someone he really likes: Jihoon.

Hopefully, he’ll be able to do that before the beautiful flowers drift off to make way for the green shade the trees would provide for the upcoming summer months.

But as of now, he’s still got a long way to go to win Jihoon’s heart, and hopefully, Soonyoung would be able to help him…

* * *

Jihoon’s already all blanketed up, huddled in front of the television in the living room, trying to choose a film to watch. He’s home alone, since Soonyoung has some family thing or other; and he’s glad to be free of his oddball friend for at least the weekend. Right then, the doorbell rings, and Jihoon freezes in his spot. He’s not expecting anyone to crash his evening, and he didn’t order takeout, happy with the bowl of instant ramen he’d had for dinner earlier (though he feels like his tummy is rumbling with hunger once more).

Jihoon pulls his blanket tighter around himself, hoping that the person at the door would realise that they’ve got the wrong apartment and leave immediately, so Jihoon could watch Black Panther for the nth time in peace.

“Soonyoung, it’s me.” Ding-dong. Ding-dong. Dingdongdingdongdingdong.

Idiot Soonyoung, who has impatient idiot friends who doesn’t even know he’s not home. Jihoon groans and drags himself to the door to chase his unwelcome guest away, still wrapped up in his blanket. He pulls the door open, ready to rant at whoever’s standing there.

“Hey.” It’s Choi freaking Seungcheol, bearing food and wearing actual clothes and not only his underwear. Jihoon freezes in his spot, wondering if he’s having one of those unspeakable wet dreams about Choi freaking Seungcheol. The delicious scent of food wafts throughout Jihoon’s apartment, and he’s already salivating, eyeballing the packages of takeout that Seungcheol’s carrying – this clearly isn’t a dream, although it seems to be…

“What are you doing here.” Jihoon manages to spit out, though he has a million other important questions he wants to ask, like what food did Seungcheol bring?

“I thought Soonyoung was here…” Seungcheol’s eyes are wide in shock seeing Jihoon answer the door, but he quickly composes himself, holding up the bags of food he’d intercepted from the delivery boy downstairs. “…I brought food?”

This situation could go two ways: Jihoon could either let a stranger (a famous one, mind you) bring delicious food into the safety of his home, or slam the door right in Seungcheol’s stupid handsome face and miss out the chance of having a proper meal.

Jihoon doesn’t know what’s the most socially acceptable thing to do; so he quickly lists down some facts to straighten his mind.

  1. He’d finally gotten some alone time, and for the whole weekend, too.
  2. But now Choi Seungcheol is at his door, fully dressed.
  3. He’s hungry.
  4. Choi Seungcheol has food. And it smells good…is that rice cakes? And chicken?? His favourite food????
  5. He’s _extremely_ hungry. 



Jihoon can’t turn down the promise of good food, and Seungcheol seems to have brought enough to feed a family of ten.

So at the expense of his alone time, Jihoon chooses the food. Of course, Choi Seungcheol would have to enter his home, and they’re barely acquaintances. Would he simply drop off the food, or would he stay to enjoy his share? He’s already taking too long to deliberate – Seungcheol is still standing in the hallway with a hopeful smile waiting for a response – so he’ll find out the answer to that other question soon enough.

“Come in.” Jihoon says quietly, doubting his choice, thinking that this is probably the second worst decision he’s ever made, the first being sharing an apartment with Soonyoung.

Seungcheol smiles that stupid, handsome smile of his (complete with dimples!), and easily slips past Jihoon into the dimly lit apartment.

Jihoon doesn’t make a proper move to welcome his uninvited guest, but Seungcheol makes himself at home, plonking the food down on the kitchen counter. Without being asked, he immediately searches the cupboards for plates and spoons, while Jihoon thinks of ways to banish Seungcheol from his apartment. The next thing he knows, Seungcheol’s already got a huge spread of Jihoon’s favourite food on the small dining table.

It feels weird, having the biggest swimming superstar in the country serve him dinner, especially when they have a non-relationship - in the sense that they know each other through a string of sexually awkward encounters, but apart from that, they’re completely strangers.

(Though not in Seungcheol’s case, since he knows everything there is to know about Jihoon from his favourite food, to the rumoured crush on an older girl he had in middle school; which makes Seungcheol sweat – what if Jihoon’s not receptive of pursuing romantic love with the same gender?)

“Have some food, Jihoon.”

Jihoon’s tummy chooses to growl at that moment, betraying his thoughts – he's about to tell Seungcheol that he’d had dinner, no thanks for the food, because he’s already full…

“Here are some rice cakes…” Seungcheol serves a steaming pack of food for Jihoon, cracking the chopsticks apart for him. “And I brought some cola, too.” Seungcheol magically produces a large bottle from one of the bags, twisting the cap open and pouring a cup for Jihoon, who drinks half of it in one shot.

(Seungcheol makes a mental note: ask Chan to send a letter or email to Coca-cola if he could become their brand ambassador, and get free cola for life, so he could give them all to Jihoon, because apparently, cola is Jihoon’s favourite beverage.)

“Thanks for the food.” There’s a hint of a smile at the edges of Jihoon’s lips, like he’s trying to restrain himself from smiling that beautiful smile of his that Seungcheol wishes to see with his own two eyes.  

“Oh, I almost forgot the rice. And the chicken.” Two menu items that practically capture Jihoon’s heart, and he almost feels touched that Choi freaking Seungcheol brought all his favourite food without him ever asking for it. Jihoon’s got a thousand incoherent questions he wants to ask, but now he’d rather focus on the food and ask questions later because food shouldn’t be wasted, and of course, it tastes better while it’s still warm.

“Thank you for the food.” Jihoon repeats, and he digs in without a moment’s hesitation.

Seungcheol sits across Jihoon, watching him eat; and decides that this is Jihoon’s most adorable moment. He’s enjoying the food, eating his portion like he hasn’t eaten in days, while the blanket draped around him securely sits on his shoulders, comfortably drowning him in warmth. Seungcheol wonders why Jihoon won’t take it off when he’s eating - ooh, what if he’s wearing nothing underneath it? A hint of Jihoon’s sharp collarbones and some milky white skin barely hidden underneath tease Seungcheol’s mind, invoking other thoughts that should be reserved for the bedroom.

Jihoon pauses for a moment, peeking at Seungcheol almost shyly, conscious that the swimmer is watching him eat. “Aren’t you going to eat too?”

Seungcheol’s flustered, getting caught watching Jihoon, and immediately reaches over for some chicken. “Don’t mind if I do.”

Jihoon watches Seungcheol dig into his food with gusto, then returns to his own meal. He’s not sure where this evening is going, but he knows for certain that he’s not going to spend the rest of it alone. It somehow feels like a godsend, for Choi Seungcheol to turn up at his doorstep with all of his favourite food when he’s (sort of) hungry – could this be a sign? Surely Seungcheol would’ve known that Soonyoung isn’t home that night.

Jihoon musters all his courage, finding his voice to seek the truth. “Were you looking for Soonyoung?”

“He asked me to come over. With food.” Seungcheol replies.

Jihoon tries to keep his expression neutral. That seems like a very Soonyoung thing to do – to invite someone over when he’s not home himself - unless he’s got ulterior motives… “Well, if you haven’t noticed, he’s not here.”

“I see.”

Jihoon could sense Seungcheol’s nervousness, much unlike the charismatic swimmer he’d seen on the news every time he wins a (silver, not gold) medal. Part of him wants to reach out and pat Seungcheol’s shoulder, and tell him to chill, but he’s also nervous himself, though he thinks that he’s doing a better job at covering it up.

“Food’s good?” Seungcheol asks.

Jihoon nods, his mouth full of rice. All his favourite food, in one meal – what more could a guy ask for?

Seungcheol breathes out his relief, and they spend the rest of their meal in silence, polishing off all the food that Seungcheol had ordered. Seungcheol even lets Jihoon have the last piece of chicken, even though he stares longingly at it when Jihoon eats it, gnawing right down to the bone.

When Jihoon finally puts his chopsticks down, leaning back on a full tummy, he makes eye contact with Seungcheol, instantly embarrassed. 

"Thank you." Jihoon says, quickly focusing at a spot on the wall behind Seungcheol's head. 

Seungcheol grins back - hello again, dimples - and the metaphorical layer of ice around Jihoon's heart melts a little. 

Seungcheol helps Jihoon clear the leftovers, even volunteering to take out the trash. It’s nice having someone to help with the chores, since Soonyoung usually doesn’t, his mind already distracted with other trivial things that have nothing to do with chores. Jihoon doesn't bother to stop Seungcheol when he begins scrubbing the kitchen sink, watching him for about two seconds before he goes back to the living room, resuming his previous spot on the sofa. The television screen is still frozen at the first second of Black Panther, and Jihoon wonders if he should wait for Seungcheol to leave before he resumes (begins?) his one-man movie screening. 

What is he going to do if Seungcheol decides to hang out? Jihoon grabs his phone from the coffee table to search for answers from the most legitimate source: the internet.

Google search:  _how to tell a handsome man to leave your house without offending him._

The top search results aren't exactly what Jihoon wants ( _15 Ways to Leave Your Lover_ ) and he quickly shoves his phone underneath a cushion when he notices Seungcheol approaching from the corner of his eye. He's carrying a bottle of cola and two glasses, which means that he won't be leaving anytime soon...

“Cola?” Seungcheol's already pouring a glass for Jihoon before he could even answer. 

“Thanks.” Jihoon pokes a hand out of his blanket to receive the glass, sipping his all-time favourite beverage. Without a word, Seungcheol settles down right beside him, nursing his own cup of soda, letting silence hang in the air between them.

“So. What do you usually do in your free time?” Seungcheol breaks the quietness with a random question. 

“I watch movies.”

“Oh, I like movies too.”

“Cool.”

Jihoon takes another swig of his ice-cold cola, savouring the fizzy pop of the beverage in his mouth. He really wants to start watching the movie he’d set up on the television earlier, before Seungcheol turned up at his door, but as a host for an uninvited guest, he feels like he should be more hospitable towards Seungcheol. Yet he’s not sure what to do… he knows nothing about Seungcheol, and most times, he feels awkward around strangers. Seconds tick by, as the two men sit on the couch, holding their cups of soda.

(Two dudes, sitting on a sofa, two feet apart because they’re not gay.)

“Do you wanna watch Black Panther with me?” Jihoon mumbles, reaching out for the television remote sitting on the coffee table in front of him. If he doesn’t start the movie now, it’ll end late, and he doesn’t need Seungcheol hanging around for too long, because he feels like disintegrating into thin air when he thinks about how nice Seungcheol has been towards him all evening. 

Seungcheol nods with a smile, even though he’s a bit more partial towards Captain America, but he wouldn’t mind, just to spend a little more time with Jihoon.

The opening sequence begins, the familiar faces of the movie franchise in action, smoothly transitioning into the renowned logo of the producing studio. Jihoon relaxes - as best as he could, with Choi Seungcheol next to him - in his seat as the first scene begins; and he would have liked to switch off the lights, for a more theatrical experience. But he doesn’t budge from his spot, trying to divert his attention to the screen, instead of thinking about Seungcheol, who’s close enough to poke with his toes, if he wants to.

Spending an evening indoors, having a nice supper, followed by an interesting action flick. Jihoon usually does these things alone, with Soonyoung flouncing about in the background, but having someone to do it with seems… nice. Still, he’s not sure how to feel if this becomes routine – but right now, knowing that Seungcheol is sitting close by comforts him, even if his heart is beating a bit too fast. But as the movie plays on, he’s transported to the fictional world of Wakanda, where the movie is set, yet he’s still conscious of Seungcheol’s presence nearby, hearing his little gasps of surprise every now and then.

The movie is action-packed, with touches of emotional and witty moments. Jihoon would normally gape at all the twists and turns of the movie plot, but tonight he feels a bit sleepy. The characters on the screen are blurring out of focus, and he slips his eyes shut for about two seconds of rest…

Next to him, Seungcheol doesn’t even realise that Jihoon’s asleep, gripped by the dramatic action sequences of the movie, until the credits roll onto the screen. He turns to gush about how cool the movie had been; its plot intricately intertwined with other movies of the same franchise, yet solid enough to stand on its own - only to find Jihoon snoring away, partially covered by his blanket.

The diver’s cheek is pressed up against the couch, away from Seungcheol. He checks the time – it’s almost midnight, and Jihoon must’ve been tired from training all day. It’s late, so he should take this as his cue to leave, but he quietly sits there on the couch, watching Jihoon sleep for a few minutes; already feeling guilty if he leaves Jihoon to sleep on the couch overnight – it doesn’t look comfortable, and he doesn’t want Jihoon to wake up with a crick in his neck because of his odd sleeping position.

“Jihoonie?” Seungcheol gently touches Jihoon’s shoulder, hoping to wake him up. 

Jihoon lets out a tiny snore instead.

(Which Seungcheol finds adorable.)

Well, he can add that little fact to his Jihoon bible when he gets home: Jihoon sleeps like a log.

Seungcheol doesn’t really want to rouse Jihoon from his slumber, so he sits there, plotting his next move, as he watches the rise and fall of the outline of Jihoon’s chest underneath his blanket with his slow, rhythmic breathing. The first thing Seungcheol does is to switch the television off, silencing the majestic movie score blaring in tandem with the rolling credits on the screen.

Then he glances around the apartment, already deciding in his mind that he’s going to tuck Jihoon into bed… if he can even figure out where Jihoon’s bed is. Rolling up his sleeves (unnecessarily), Seungcheol moves cautiously towards Jihoon, half-hoping that the diver wouldn’t wake up halfway through his newly devised plan – he doesn’t want to think of the potentially dangerous consequences. 

Seungcheol’s first obstacle is Jihoon’s blanket, which is partially draped over the diver. He could simply scoop Jihoon into his arms, blanket and all, but he’d been wondering all evening if Jihoon’s wearing anything underneath it – what if the blanket falls off and Jihoon’s fully naked underneath it?

Hoping that his nose isn’t bleeding, Seungcheol takes a peek under Jihoon’s blanket, just in case, only to find that Jihoon’s fully dressed.

Relief… and partial disappointment. Seungcheol removes the blanket, folding it into something remotely neat as Jihoon continues snoring in his odd spot. Then he reaches out, looping his arms under Jihoon's back, careful not to touch the diver's considerable backside.

“Oof.” Seungcheol grunts, as he hauls Jihoon into his arms. He certainly didn’t factor in how heavy Jihoon is, even though he looks like he’d weigh less with his slight build. Miraculously, Jihoon doesn’t even stir, his eyes still shut tightly, his head lolling off Seungcheol’s arm.

Staggering towards the nearest door, Seungcheol berates himself for not scouting out Jihoon’s bedroom first. He’s hoping that he gets the first door right, because even if he’s carrying Jihoon in his arms, bridal style; Jihoon’s practically dead weight, and his muscles feel like they’re on fire.

Seungcheol grapples for the door knob, careful enough to not drop Jihoon. The door swings open, revealing a messy bathroom. Clothes and toiletries are everywhere, and the toilet makes a weird gurgling sound.  

Wrong room.

Seungcheol shuts the door as best as he could, and continues down the hallway, stopping at another door that has colourful papers stuck to it – fan mail addressed to Soonyoung, when he looks closer. Most of it are from kids, writing heartfelt words of admiration towards Soonyoung with their cute penmanship and spelling errors. Who knew that Soonyoung would be popular among elementary school kids, all gifting him adorably childish drawings of tigers and flowers and stick people jumping off diving platforms? Seungcheol never looks through his own fan mail – Chan used to lug sacks of them into his penthouse from the national swimming association office – but one time, he picked one up from the mountainous pile; a hot pink letter doused in some tacky perfume that burned his nostrils. The next thing he knew, he was staring at a HD photo of someone’s vagina, scarring him for life. Since then, he’d instructed Chan to leave fan letters at the office, hoping to avoid similar episodes, though he feels bad for not going through the mail, knowing that he’s got genuine supporters from all over the country.

Seungcheol purposefully passes by the colourfully decorated door, already knowing that it’s Soonyoung’s room. There’s another door at the farthest end of the apartment, and he assumes that room should belong to Jihoon. If it’s not… he’ll carry Jihoon home and lay him in his own king-sized bed, an impulsive and irrational decision that could potentially land him in criminal court for attempted kidnapping.

Seungcheol pushes the final door open with his backside, only to be welcomed by a darkened bedroom. A strip of neon light peeking in through the curtains barely illuminate the room, and Seungcheol stumbles over to the bed. Jihoon’s fucking heavy, and no amount of weight training could’ve prepared him for this. Serves him right for skipping gym lately.

Just as Seungcheol’s about to gently lay Jihoon down on the soft mattress, he trips over something on the floor and faceplants right onto Jihoon’s chest.

(Well, that’s one way to put someone to bed.)

Jihoon’s eyelids flutter a bit at the sudden impact, and Seungcheol holds his breath, hoping that Jihoon wouldn’t wake up to this compromising situation Seungcheol had tangled himself into. Instead, Jihoon subconsciously burrows himself into his bed, as if recognising his pillows even in his sleep.

Mission accomplished… sort of.

Slowly, Seungcheol raises his head, once he’s sure that Jihoon’s still fast asleep. (Which is about five minutes later – he’d been squishing his cheek against Jihoon’s chest, which he knows is super toned under Jihoon’s oversized T-shirt.) He’s about to get up, when Jihoon traps him into an embrace, and he gets dragged down to Jihoon’s chest once more.

Oh shit, this is like a scene from a drama.

He wouldn’t mind staying in this position until Jihoon wakes up. It’s Jihoon’s fault, because Jihoon’s the one holding him so tightly, like he’s never going to let go. So he stays there for a little while more, matching his breathing with Jihoon’s, closing his eyes to savour the moment.

Seungcheol knows that it wouldn’t sit well with Jihoon, if he wakes up to find Seungcheol on top of him, so the swimmer makes a reluctant decision to leave. As gentle as possible, Seungcheol wriggles out of Jihoon’s iron grip, and niftily puts a pillow in his place, which Jihoon cuddles tightly, nuzzling his face against the soft fabric.

(Seungcheol’s a bit jealous at the pillow – _that could’ve been him_.)

He sits at the edge of the bed, his eyes fixated on Jihoon’s beautiful lips - so tempting, even in the lowlight. It seems like the perfect moment, to simply draw close and kiss them, like in Those Romantic Movies….

No, he’s a gentleman, so he won’t take advantage. He gazes at Jihoon’s sleeping face, so young and peaceful and innocent; revelling in this single moment, knowing that he probably wouldn’t encounter anything like this anymore, at least not in the foreseeable future, until Jihoon accepts his heart.

Seungcheol tucks Jihoon in, deliberately letting his lips brush lightly against the diver’s ear as he leans in to whisper, “Sweet dreams.”

* * *

_Jihoon’s in the aquatic arena, stretching by the poolside. He’s going to practice soon, and he’s expecting Seungcheol to turn up, and fawn over him as he trains. A quick check of the time on the clock tells him that Seungcheol should be arriving any second now…_

_A sudden cheer rises up from near the entrance – the trademark rabid screams of fangirls – so it’s no mistaking who’d just entered. Just as expected, it's Choi Seungcheol, accompanied by his assistant Chan, and a bunch of excited fangirls, clutching their hearts and swooning behind him._

_Jihoon stops stretching, standing in his spot. He knows that Seungcheol’s already seen where he is – that guy seems to have some built-in Jihoon radar. He waits for Seungcheol to run towards him like an excited puppy, and greet him hello with that dazzling smile of his – the one that makes Jihoon’s heart beat as fast as a hummingbird’s, thanking all the goodness in the world that he exists in the same timeline with the world’s most gorgeous swimmer._

_Instead, Seungcheol grabs one of the manic fangirls beside him, and begins making out with her in the roughest way possible; their faces smashed up against each other; grabby hands all over. There’s a sudden twisting pain in Jihoon’s chest, and he lets out a wounded sound. He wants to storm over to Seungcheol, pry him off that girl and chew him out in all sorts of kinky ways so that everyone – especially whatsherface – knows that Seungcheol belongs to Jihoon, and no one else._

_But before Jihoon could do that, Seungcheol disengages from the frenzied liplock with a loud suctioning sound. He spins the girl around dizzyingly, setting her down to her feet, to boisterous, supportive cheers from his fans. Chan’s buzzing around like a bee, taking pictures of the whole occasion, which Jihoon thinks is unnecessary._

_Then Seungcheol pulls out a velvet box from his pocket and gets down one knee, raising a mixture of reactions from the horde of girls witnessing the situation. Even Jihoon’s breath hitches, when he understands what’s about to happen…_

_A fucking proposal._

_Jihoon’s shaking his head non-stop, the rest of his body trembling, when whatsherface squeals at the highest frequency possible, accepting the shiny diamond ring that glints in the bright lights of the aquatic arena._

_Choi Seungcheol is now engaged to whatsherface, and Jihoon’s world crashes around him. Hopelessness and disappointment engulf him, and nothing in life has purpose anymore. His vision is blurry as tears well in his eyes, and he could barely see that Seungcheol and whatsherface are already getting married in a poolside ceremony officiated by Chan._

_“And I now pronounce you husband and wife…”_

_That’s it. Jihoon’s going to fling himself off the ten metres platform. He’d take the plunge, and survive, because that’s what he’s trained to do his whole life – so he’ll have to live with the fact that Choi Seungcheol had never really been in love with him to begin with, marrying one of his fans instead._

_Even if he’s miserable for the rest of his pathetic existence, as long as Seungcheol’s happy, it’s fine…_

Jihoon peels his eyes open, hearing the quickening thump-thump-thump of his heartbeat in his ears. There’s a sheen of sweat over his cold skin, and he shoves his comforter aside, trying to calm himself down.

It’s morning already, sunshine streaming through the half-drawn curtains, and Jihoon’s lying in his own bed, surrounded by the dozens of fluffy pillows that co-exist with him in his comfortable habitat. Which is odd, because the last thing he remembers was drifting off to an epic fight scene between Black Panther and his nemesis, a glass of cola in hand.

Somehow, he’d sleepwalked over to his own bed last night, which is a mystery wrapped in an enigma… how did that happen?

Still, he’s shaken by the dream – nightmare? – that had woken him up, feeling slightly disheartened and vulnerable that Choi Seungcheol was dating (not the m-word, _please_ ) someone else in his dream.

Not that it matters to Jihoon, because who Choi Seungcheol decides to date is absolutely none of his business. So why is this sadness engulfing him, domineering over all his rational thoughts, amplifying some sort of longing towards someone he loathes down to the core?

Why is Choi Seungcheol flooding into his thoughts, first thing in the morning? It had been bad enough that Jihoon had been dreaming of him. Jihoon pouts, crossing his arms over his chest. All these feelings are confusing him, putting him off course for the career goals he’d set for himself. He’s got to focus, but there’s this tiny little voice nagging at him, asking trivial questions that he doesn’t know the answer to.

Choi Seungcheol isn’t dating anyone else… right?

(Jihoon would never admit that he’d be completely devastated if Seungcheol is.)

He hides his face with his hands, hating the surge of fluttery feelings towards that certain Choi.

Focus. World Championships.

Leaning back on his pillows, he tries to think of his schedule for the day. Gym. Meet Coach Hong for dinner. Do laundry. He’s not going to the aquatic arena today – a guy’s gotta take a break sometimes, but he’ll be back in business the day after, hoping to dominate his diving routines. Which reminds him: he also needs to find another replacement for the replacement shammy he’d been using lately, because he’d lost his favourite one last week, and the new ones he’d been using weren’t as soft, had poor water absorbency, or were simply the wrong colour. 

Nothing could possibly distract him, he thinks, as his eyes automatically flicks over to the giant billboard in full view from his window, the one that advertises Milkis, featuring Choi Seungcheol and his stupid handsome smile. And there it is, that weird feeling in his gut that accompanies the skip of his heartbeat every time he spares a glance at Seungcheol’s stupid handsome face.  

Wait – what was he supposed to do again today?

( **Not** think about Choi Seungcheol, but he’s going to take some time to agonize over Choi Seungcheol’s current relationship status after that disturbing dream.)

Jihoon groans and covers his face with a pillow – even when he’s not there, Seungcheol still manages to ruin his life.

Dammit, Choi Seungcheol.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IF there's any trouble with the pictures of soonie's texts, pls tell me so i can fix it :D
> 
> so is cheol a rbb (really bad boy)?  
> will hoom be okay? 
> 
> mixtape madness in the next chapter! :D 
> 
> and as always feedback is welcome ^^

**Author's Note:**

> heads up: this may have irregular updates (thanks life) but **I'LL TRY MY BEST TO COMPLETE THIS**
> 
> pls give love to this so it'll thrive :D
> 
> ######  feedback is highly appreciated 


End file.
